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palacechristian[Takes place the same day as Johnny confronts Karl and Karl calls Harry, and Harry bawls out Johnny, and shortly after Harry tattles to Christian.]
Christian had already passed Obie and a very subdued looking Adrian out on the front lawn. He'd given him a reassuring smile and, after asking Johnny's whereabouts, had suggested the lad get himself something to eat and watch vids for a little while, that he'd be in the bedroom too. Adrian had just nodded, picked himself up and followed on Christian's heels, pausing momentarily as Christian opened the bedroom door and only moving off after receiving another comforting smile.
Christian closed the door quietly behind him, conscious of the sound of sniffling coming from the rumpled figure on the bed and feeling his confusion and doubt as if it were a blanket folding down over them both. He moved over to the bed, dropping his jacket on the floor and sat down on his side, leaning over to touch Johnny's shoulder with a gentle pat. "Hey lover," he greeted quietly.
Johnny flinched at the touch for just a fraction of a second, then relaxed slightly. He turned half-over, toward Christian, but was still mostly curled around his pillow, as though his arms felt a need to hold, to grasp, like a young primate's instinctual clinging to its mother. His eyes blinked and he looked up at Christian, his vision slightly fuzzed from the residue of tears. "Umm," he said, his voice low and subdued. "Hey." And then, "Hi."
Smiling, Christian slid the rest of the way onto the bed, holding out his arms in invitation. "C'mere."
Johnny looked over at him for a moment then just rolled over, thudding against Christian's chest, arms and legs fitting perfectly without thought. He clutched his lover as he'd been clutching the pillow, desperately needing an anchor, something stable to hang onto with the ground underfoot suddenly gone all mushy.
"S'okay." Christian soothed with his voice and his hands gently stroking through his lover's hair. "I know. Harry came to see me. He's not mad, you know." He kissed Johnny's hair, leaning back against the pillows and taking Johnny with him. "Well, he is. But it's not permanent or fatal."
Johnny shook his head in a convulsive shudder. "He is. He was so mad he hardly even yelled. I blew it so bad, I know I did, but I don't know why or how or what I should've done instead. Nothing? But that can't be right! But...." Johnny wound down, his voice trailing off in confused misery. He shook his head again and buried his face in Christian's neck.
"No." Christian wrapped his arms around his lover's slender body. "Your instincts were sound, it was the execution that failed." Raising a hand, he tipped Johnny's head back so he could see him. "Listen," he said, "there's nothing wrong with wanting to help where you see a need. Okay, you should have gone to Harry not Karl, offered to listen, to help, whatever. And you didn't. But the thought wasn't wrong, okay?"
"I just... I can't think of what I should've done. I did ask Harry and he said to leave it alone. And maybe I should've but what if he'd really needed help? People don't always say, even when you ask them right out, and what if...? I don't know." He ducked his head again with a low, frustrated moan. "It can't be right, ignoring when someone you love's been hurt. It just can't. But what I did wasn't right either so what should I have done? How can you tell?"
"Gone back to Harry? Tried to talk to him again? Experience guides you in the end but, when you don't have it, you have to rely on what you're told. Look at the big picture. Sure, Harry got hit, but is Harry the kind of guy to just take a hit? No. But someone else might be. Love," Christian snuggled down with Johnny, "there's no firm answer, no textbook guide. You might just as easily have been right to do what you did as been wrong. But either way, Harry asked you not to and even if it'd turned out right, Harry would have lost a little faith in you, no? Karl and Harry are old friends, old lovers. They have their own way of doing things. Lots of people do. You learn to allow for and respect their ways, that's all."
"But he hurt him! I mean, Harry hit Karl, too, but how can you see something like that and say, 'That's just their way?' He didn't just slap him or something, he was serious! They both were. I mean, how can you do that to someone you love? I can't imagine hitting you for real, deliberately, with my fist so it left bruises like that. I just... I don't get it. How can that be okay?"
Christian shrugged. "Just because you don't have any personal experience of it, love, doesn't mean it's not a valid form of expression." He smiled to take any possible sting out of the words. "Craig and I used to slap one another around. It's just another, physical, form of expressing your emotions. All your experiences with it are negative and it does take a negative form, especially when it gets out of hand. But it's still the way a lot of people show how they feel." He rolled onto his side. "Ever seen two people meet up and punch one another on the arm as a greeting? It's like that, only in reverse. To them, it is okay."
"But...." Johnny floundered, unable to express the depth of his incomprehension. "Yeah, I've seen that. I understand that 'cause it's just, you know, light. You're not really trying to hurt the other person if you punch them in the arm or play-smack them or something. It just doesn't, doesn't work. I mean.... I don't know what I mean." He fell silent for a few seconds, thinking, then said, "All right, I get that Harry's not the kind of guy to let someone hit him and not get back. And actually, he said he hit Karl first, so it was Karl getting him back, but I didn't know that."
"No you didn't. But next time you'll know to double-check, yeah?" Christian smoothed Johnny's hair back and kissed him briefly. "It's complicated, I know. We all want to help our friends when we think they're in trouble. Thing is, it's better to know as much as you can instead of just thinking it." He rolled back and threaded his hand through his own hair in frustration. "I'm not very good at explaining this stuff," he said with a soft snort. "It's a judgement call and you have to learn to make it."
Johnny managed a small smile at Christian's frustrated gesture. "So... next time I have this problem, coming to you for advice wouldn't work, huh?"
"I'm the last person you should ask!" Christian peered down into Johnny's face. "I don't usually have to do it the way you do, remember?" He poked his own chest with a forefinger. "Hello? Mindreader?"
"Umm, yeah. True." Johnny blushed. He actually had forgotten that Christian wouldn't have to just sit and wonder about something like this. "So then I should ask you? Because you can find out for sure if someone's being hurt and needs help, or just... got thumped by a friend. I still don't get that, but you could tell if they really needed help, yeah?"
"Well, I don't intrude, but you could ask if I knew anything, yeah. But remember, I won't always be there. You're gonna have to work on developing your own... meagre, plebian, non-Talented skills." He emphasised the tease with gentle pokes to Johnny's chest.
"Oh. But...." Johnny sighed. "It's like the Linus thing again," he said, sounding frustrated. "What I did might have been right, but I don't know 'cause I don't have the experience or knowledge, so I have to just sit here doing nothing until I do, but when there's something wrong and I can help I should, except I don't know for sure if I should or even if there really is something wrong, so...." He thudded his forehead against Christian's shoulder a few times.
"I know, I know." Christian chuckled, patting Johnny's back while his lover tried to brain himself. "Is it reassuring at all if I say it doesn't get any easier? Especially with blokes like Harry and Karl? They're all about the physical, you know? Volatile characters, the kind who need to vent their anger that way, else they'd be all... broody. And I don't mean like hens."
Johnny nodded, relaxing some against Christian's side. "So everyone's equally ignorant and frustrated is what you're saying?"
"Goes by degrees." Christian rolled again, pinning Johnny under him and grinning down into his face. "According to age and experience. There's frustrated and then there's frustrated. You're in the first category and Harry Sinclair causes the second. Better?" He stole a kiss.
"Umm, yeah." Johnny wound his arms around Christian's neck and kissed him gently, then paused. "Umm, did you mean it when you said Harry wasn't really mad? 'Cause it sounded like he doesn't really... like me very much anymore." Johnny's voice sounded sad and bleak.
"I did. He said to tell you that he was still your friend. Soon as he's calmed down, he'll tell you himself." Christian kissed him again. "Johnny. People get angry with their friends. Doesn't always mean the friendship is over, very rarely is it more than just a blip on the radar. And speaking of friends...." He rose up onto his hands and knees, preparing to rise. "You've got a very quiet and chastened Adrian waiting out in the living room, wanting to know that his mate's okay."
Johnny's gaze flew to the closed bedroom door and he immediately felt guilty again. "I did, kind of, umm. I don't remember what I said, but, yeah, right." He pushed a hand through his hair in a mostly ineffectual attempt to straighten it out after an hour or more of tossing and rolling in bed. "I'll talk to him and apologize. Then dinner?" He looked up, a hopeful expression on his face.
"Just tell him you're okay now." Christian got up and held out a hand for Johnny. "That's all he wants to hear." Looking down at himself he realised he still had his shirt buttoned up and his tie, somewhat askew, still around his neck. He made a face and tugged it loose, discarding it on top of his jacket. "I might even cook," he said with a grin. "Right after I shower." Planting one more kiss on his lover's upturned face, he spun him around and patted his ass. "Go. Be reassuring. I'll be right out."
"I will, thanks." Johnny grinned over his shoulder, then it softened into an adoring smile. "Love you."
"Course you do." Christian winked, shooing Johnny out. "I'm perfect."
Johnny giggled and chucked a pillow at him before scooting out of the room.
Christian had already passed Obie and a very subdued looking Adrian out on the front lawn. He'd given him a reassuring smile and, after asking Johnny's whereabouts, had suggested the lad get himself something to eat and watch vids for a little while, that he'd be in the bedroom too. Adrian had just nodded, picked himself up and followed on Christian's heels, pausing momentarily as Christian opened the bedroom door and only moving off after receiving another comforting smile.
Christian closed the door quietly behind him, conscious of the sound of sniffling coming from the rumpled figure on the bed and feeling his confusion and doubt as if it were a blanket folding down over them both. He moved over to the bed, dropping his jacket on the floor and sat down on his side, leaning over to touch Johnny's shoulder with a gentle pat. "Hey lover," he greeted quietly.
Johnny flinched at the touch for just a fraction of a second, then relaxed slightly. He turned half-over, toward Christian, but was still mostly curled around his pillow, as though his arms felt a need to hold, to grasp, like a young primate's instinctual clinging to its mother. His eyes blinked and he looked up at Christian, his vision slightly fuzzed from the residue of tears. "Umm," he said, his voice low and subdued. "Hey." And then, "Hi."
Smiling, Christian slid the rest of the way onto the bed, holding out his arms in invitation. "C'mere."
Johnny looked over at him for a moment then just rolled over, thudding against Christian's chest, arms and legs fitting perfectly without thought. He clutched his lover as he'd been clutching the pillow, desperately needing an anchor, something stable to hang onto with the ground underfoot suddenly gone all mushy.
"S'okay." Christian soothed with his voice and his hands gently stroking through his lover's hair. "I know. Harry came to see me. He's not mad, you know." He kissed Johnny's hair, leaning back against the pillows and taking Johnny with him. "Well, he is. But it's not permanent or fatal."
Johnny shook his head in a convulsive shudder. "He is. He was so mad he hardly even yelled. I blew it so bad, I know I did, but I don't know why or how or what I should've done instead. Nothing? But that can't be right! But...." Johnny wound down, his voice trailing off in confused misery. He shook his head again and buried his face in Christian's neck.
"No." Christian wrapped his arms around his lover's slender body. "Your instincts were sound, it was the execution that failed." Raising a hand, he tipped Johnny's head back so he could see him. "Listen," he said, "there's nothing wrong with wanting to help where you see a need. Okay, you should have gone to Harry not Karl, offered to listen, to help, whatever. And you didn't. But the thought wasn't wrong, okay?"
"I just... I can't think of what I should've done. I did ask Harry and he said to leave it alone. And maybe I should've but what if he'd really needed help? People don't always say, even when you ask them right out, and what if...? I don't know." He ducked his head again with a low, frustrated moan. "It can't be right, ignoring when someone you love's been hurt. It just can't. But what I did wasn't right either so what should I have done? How can you tell?"
"Gone back to Harry? Tried to talk to him again? Experience guides you in the end but, when you don't have it, you have to rely on what you're told. Look at the big picture. Sure, Harry got hit, but is Harry the kind of guy to just take a hit? No. But someone else might be. Love," Christian snuggled down with Johnny, "there's no firm answer, no textbook guide. You might just as easily have been right to do what you did as been wrong. But either way, Harry asked you not to and even if it'd turned out right, Harry would have lost a little faith in you, no? Karl and Harry are old friends, old lovers. They have their own way of doing things. Lots of people do. You learn to allow for and respect their ways, that's all."
"But he hurt him! I mean, Harry hit Karl, too, but how can you see something like that and say, 'That's just their way?' He didn't just slap him or something, he was serious! They both were. I mean, how can you do that to someone you love? I can't imagine hitting you for real, deliberately, with my fist so it left bruises like that. I just... I don't get it. How can that be okay?"
Christian shrugged. "Just because you don't have any personal experience of it, love, doesn't mean it's not a valid form of expression." He smiled to take any possible sting out of the words. "Craig and I used to slap one another around. It's just another, physical, form of expressing your emotions. All your experiences with it are negative and it does take a negative form, especially when it gets out of hand. But it's still the way a lot of people show how they feel." He rolled onto his side. "Ever seen two people meet up and punch one another on the arm as a greeting? It's like that, only in reverse. To them, it is okay."
"But...." Johnny floundered, unable to express the depth of his incomprehension. "Yeah, I've seen that. I understand that 'cause it's just, you know, light. You're not really trying to hurt the other person if you punch them in the arm or play-smack them or something. It just doesn't, doesn't work. I mean.... I don't know what I mean." He fell silent for a few seconds, thinking, then said, "All right, I get that Harry's not the kind of guy to let someone hit him and not get back. And actually, he said he hit Karl first, so it was Karl getting him back, but I didn't know that."
"No you didn't. But next time you'll know to double-check, yeah?" Christian smoothed Johnny's hair back and kissed him briefly. "It's complicated, I know. We all want to help our friends when we think they're in trouble. Thing is, it's better to know as much as you can instead of just thinking it." He rolled back and threaded his hand through his own hair in frustration. "I'm not very good at explaining this stuff," he said with a soft snort. "It's a judgement call and you have to learn to make it."
Johnny managed a small smile at Christian's frustrated gesture. "So... next time I have this problem, coming to you for advice wouldn't work, huh?"
"I'm the last person you should ask!" Christian peered down into Johnny's face. "I don't usually have to do it the way you do, remember?" He poked his own chest with a forefinger. "Hello? Mindreader?"
"Umm, yeah. True." Johnny blushed. He actually had forgotten that Christian wouldn't have to just sit and wonder about something like this. "So then I should ask you? Because you can find out for sure if someone's being hurt and needs help, or just... got thumped by a friend. I still don't get that, but you could tell if they really needed help, yeah?"
"Well, I don't intrude, but you could ask if I knew anything, yeah. But remember, I won't always be there. You're gonna have to work on developing your own... meagre, plebian, non-Talented skills." He emphasised the tease with gentle pokes to Johnny's chest.
"Oh. But...." Johnny sighed. "It's like the Linus thing again," he said, sounding frustrated. "What I did might have been right, but I don't know 'cause I don't have the experience or knowledge, so I have to just sit here doing nothing until I do, but when there's something wrong and I can help I should, except I don't know for sure if I should or even if there really is something wrong, so...." He thudded his forehead against Christian's shoulder a few times.
"I know, I know." Christian chuckled, patting Johnny's back while his lover tried to brain himself. "Is it reassuring at all if I say it doesn't get any easier? Especially with blokes like Harry and Karl? They're all about the physical, you know? Volatile characters, the kind who need to vent their anger that way, else they'd be all... broody. And I don't mean like hens."
Johnny nodded, relaxing some against Christian's side. "So everyone's equally ignorant and frustrated is what you're saying?"
"Goes by degrees." Christian rolled again, pinning Johnny under him and grinning down into his face. "According to age and experience. There's frustrated and then there's frustrated. You're in the first category and Harry Sinclair causes the second. Better?" He stole a kiss.
"Umm, yeah." Johnny wound his arms around Christian's neck and kissed him gently, then paused. "Umm, did you mean it when you said Harry wasn't really mad? 'Cause it sounded like he doesn't really... like me very much anymore." Johnny's voice sounded sad and bleak.
"I did. He said to tell you that he was still your friend. Soon as he's calmed down, he'll tell you himself." Christian kissed him again. "Johnny. People get angry with their friends. Doesn't always mean the friendship is over, very rarely is it more than just a blip on the radar. And speaking of friends...." He rose up onto his hands and knees, preparing to rise. "You've got a very quiet and chastened Adrian waiting out in the living room, wanting to know that his mate's okay."
Johnny's gaze flew to the closed bedroom door and he immediately felt guilty again. "I did, kind of, umm. I don't remember what I said, but, yeah, right." He pushed a hand through his hair in a mostly ineffectual attempt to straighten it out after an hour or more of tossing and rolling in bed. "I'll talk to him and apologize. Then dinner?" He looked up, a hopeful expression on his face.
"Just tell him you're okay now." Christian got up and held out a hand for Johnny. "That's all he wants to hear." Looking down at himself he realised he still had his shirt buttoned up and his tie, somewhat askew, still around his neck. He made a face and tugged it loose, discarding it on top of his jacket. "I might even cook," he said with a grin. "Right after I shower." Planting one more kiss on his lover's upturned face, he spun him around and patted his ass. "Go. Be reassuring. I'll be right out."
"I will, thanks." Johnny grinned over his shoulder, then it softened into an adoring smile. "Love you."
"Course you do." Christian winked, shooing Johnny out. "I'm perfect."
Johnny giggled and chucked a pillow at him before scooting out of the room.
