( to be fair to quentin, they've talked about some of julian's own insecurities when they were both being stupid at one another before. and he isn't even close to wrong about how julian feels about them most the time. unfortunately, he's now brought it up as if it's a shortcoming on julian's part to julian's face which means julian now has to get overly defensive over the thing he is actually a little insecure about. )
Maybe you should've paid closer attention during telekinesis lessons, idiot, because I don't need hands to do this. ( doesn't even need to move any closer to quentin, really. the metal hand stays where it's at, too, but there's the sensation of something very hand-like that wraps tight around quentin's forearm, while that same telekinetic aura wraps tight around the front of quentin's shirt, gripping on tight with full intention of throwing him straight off the rooftop they've been sitting on quietly up until now - well. for the most part. )
Well, on the bright side, Julian usually doesn't give Quentin this much warning. He's typically more of the "senseless violence first, talk later" type. Which means this time when he feels that telekinetic hand wrapping around his arm, he knows what's coming and isn't taken completely by surprise when Keller attempts to unceremoniously chuck him off the roof.]
Hey, wait—no, nope, nonono—fuck—
[Quentin doesn't flex his TK nearly as much as Keller, but he's no slouch in that department either. He gets dragged to the edge of the roof, the front of his shirt and arm leaning heavily in that direction while the rest of him braces, but fuck if he's not going to resist with all of his above average telekinetic muscle going over. Not because he'd actually fall, obviously. It's just, you know. The indignity.]
Fine, Jesus, I'm sure you're perfectly satisfactory in the sack, okay? All the ladies are so hot for your ultra sexy TK bullshit or whatever. Fucking hell, dude!
( he could push harder, but the intention here is less to actually get quentin off the roof and more to get him to shut up, which - this is working just fine for him already. so julian isn't pushing hard enough to force quentin to overcompensate, just hard enough to keep him on his toes. )
Who the hell needs hands to get someone off anyway? Especially ladies. I've got a mouth, asshole. Why are we even talking about this? Jesus.
( why is he overcompensating by mentioning that he doesn't need hands when he's also actively using psuedohands to semi-shove quentin towards the edge of the roof. why are they like this. and why does quentin's presence make him act even more stupid? christ. )
I'm not talking about it, you're talking about it!
[Okay, technically they're both talking about... whatever the fuck this is. But still. Quentin's a little distracted at the moment trying not to get pushed off a roof. Give him a break, okay??]
Yeah, yeah, you're very handsome and a generous lover clearly, but quick question: who gives a shit? Why the hell's it so goddamn important to you that I know what a great fuck you are, anyway? And for that matter, why do you care whether or not I would fuck you?? Last time I checked you were all aboard the "no homo" train, choo choo motherfucker.
You're the one who started giving me shit about being a better lay than me! I don't know?!
( he's yelling but also sounds very unsure about why he's yelling which is really just shitty all the way around. but he does stop trying to shove quentin off the rooftop, albeit suddenly and all at once letting up the pressure so it's just - one moment he's getting shoved, the next there's nothing even close to him. )
And you brought up that I won't get laid! Like, all of this started with you? Why the hell are you coming at it like I started it!?
[The telekinetic pressure abruptly stops, and Quentin's arm and shirt drop, but thankfully he doesn't. He does sit back with a soft "oof", though. Good. Great. An improvement. Probably. He eyes Julian moodily.]
I said you won't get laid because you won't. By choice. You're addicted to being miserable, you sad sack. Got jack shit to do with any of your "capabilities" or lack thereof, as the case may be. What I don't understand is you insisting on dragging me in your stupid pity party—like, oh, I clearly want in your pants soooo badly I shall perish from a broken heart! Alas, if only you came down from your goddamn throne of heterosexuality to grace me with your presence. Give me a fucking break.
because one: he knows he didn't bring it up. he did not start this! quentin did. quentin always starts it then manages to loop it back around like it was julian all along and julian fucking hates it. why is he such a dick? does he do this on purpose? stupid question, of course it's on purpose. of course he's doing this to fuck with him. but what the hell is the point of fucking with him like this? )
You're an ass. ( stating the obvious will clearly help him. anyway - with a click of his tongue, julian's pulling himself up to his feet, and - stepping off the ledge of the rooftop onto a green platform. ) And I know what you're doing, so don't play stupid!
[The insult is unsurprising. He is an ass. Unrepentantly. Always and forever. Why Julian is saying right now it is another thing entirely and—wait, is he? Is he leaving?]
Huh...?
[He is! What a—um. Hm. What insult works for this? Coward? Jerk? Dullard? Whatever. Quentin scrambles to his feet to, uh. Point accusingly—if somewhat uncertainly—at Keller.]
Bullshit! If I don't know what I'm doing, how the fuck would you know, huh? Ha! Checkmate!
( now they're back to the pointing game. okay. fine! he can play that. from his own little platform just enough distance away from the roof that he can't quite reach quentin or jump over to him without having to fly over, but he's definitely pointing back. threateningly! and menacingly! here they are, doing the pointing bit! )
Or maybe that's part of it, huh?! You're playing stupid on purpose! What happened to being an egotistical genius!
Why the hell would I play stupid on purpose, dipshit? I literally just said I—
[Hang on. Quentin stops mid-sentence, the record scratch in his head almost audible. Downside of having a brain that moves so fast: sometimes his thoughts get so far ahead that it takes a minute for the rest of him to catch up.
His eyes go to his still-pointing finger, then to Julian's, then his face, then back to his own hand, visibly computing... something.]
I don't know—what—
[His voice is softer, almost like he's just thinking out loud, and his brow furrows in concern.
And then whatever was computing in there finishes. Quentin drops his hand, his posture immediately shifting to something looser. Casual. Unbothered. He shrugs with both arms and steps back from the edge of the roof, glancing around as if choosing a direction to make his exit.]
Whatever, ain't important. Good talk, though. Try not to die out there.
( the change is too obvious to not notice it. the way he goes from as irritated as julian feels to - something lighter. easier. almost like it's intentional, like he's trying to come off like he's not bothered.
is that it? julian bets that's it. his eyes narrow, hand dropping down so he can cross both arms over his chest and just - )
[It slips out, tone a little too sharp. He pauses for a beat, glancing at Julian without moving his head, and tries again. Nonchalant this time. He idly inspects his fingernails for a moment.]
Look, the conversation wasn't going anywhere. Outlived its usefulness, so I'm putting it out of both of our miseries. You're welcome.
[He looks over and makes a loose shooing gesture.]
( he wants to argue with quentin because he knows this idiot is hiding something. that little outburst makes it more than obvious, because it isn't like him to try and cover it. meaning it was an accident.
unless he's intentionally trying to get julian to dig his heels in and push back by doing something that sounds obviously like he wouldn't do it.
jesus. see? this is why he hates quentin. the asshole makes him stand here and think and julian doesn't like it. )
Fine. Whatever. Suit yourself. ( because he's raising a hand in a halfassed wave and lowering himself down and away from the rooftop, thank you. )
[Quentin doesn't react other than to return the half-assed wave.
Nice going, Quire. Keller's leaving, and why is that? Duh, because you told him to. Oh, what, did you think he was going to dig in his heels and do his whole stubborn "no I'm going to take care of you because I have a pathological need to take responsibility for everything and everyone" routine? Well... kinda. But on the other hand they literally just had a conversation about how Julian needs to let go, and that's what he's doing. Letting go. As, well. As he should, honestly. Not like it's Keller's fault Quentin's a fucking basketcase who pushed away the one person he can actually talk to in this hellhole just like he pushes everyone away. Because nobody can abandon you if you get rid of them first, right? Jesus, and he called Julian lonely and miserable. Look in the fuckin' mirror, buddy. Look in the mirror and for fuck's sake get your shit together and grow the hell up.
.... Fine. Christ. Being a halfway functional person sucks, but he'll do it. He guesses. Quentin sullenly hops off the roof and drops until he can hover a few feet away from Julian.]
Wait. Fuck. Okay. [He makes a face and runs his hand through his hair uncomfortably.]
Okay. Well. First? If you breathe one single word of this, I will make sure you smell nothing but rancid socks for five months. At least. Or whenever it stops being funny for me. Got it?
( he's half gone, already done with this conversation and ready to move on with his life because dealing with quentin quire for even two seconds longer is going to give him a massive headache that he just does not want to deal with, how is this asshole this annoying?
except the asshole follows after him and opens his mouth again and julian - stupidly, for reasons unknown to him, rolls his eyes and widens the platform he's standing on to make it large enough for two regardless of what quire decides to do, arms crossing over his chest.
if he looks annoyed it's because he is. but that's unsurprising. quentin always manages to find some way to piss him off. is it a secondary mutation? julian bets it is. )
I can keep a secret when someone tells me it's supposed to be one.
[Hang on, that's his response to this??? A bunch of obviously untrue bullshit???? What an absolute gobshite of a—
No. No. Deep breath, count to ten, all that crap. Quentin stares at Julian in irritated shock for a moment and then collects himself. Sort of. He eyes the expanded platform but doesn't take the offer, staying right where he is. For now, at least. Oh, and he waves away that stupid thing Keller said with an obligatory eye roll. Moving on.]
Right, well, anyway.
[He takes in a sharp breath through his nose and lets it out in a huff that's only a little bit shaky. Good enough.]
That night. In the kitchen, yeah? Something... changed. For me, I mean. 'Cause before it was like, well, face ain't bad to look at I guess but. Eh. [He looks Julian up and down briefly and shrugs.] And then suddenly it was—well, look, I knew, but shit's never really come up before with a guy who wasn't, like. Super not my type, okay? It's not like with a girl. But then I started hooking up with Sophie, and then you disappeared, and none of this was supposed to fucking matter due to, oh, approximately eighteen thousand reasons, not least of which—you're straight. And why should I waste my precious time thinking about anybody who doesn't even swing my way, you know? But then this crap keeps happening, and it's like, well does it matter or not? You feel me? Picking up what I'm putting down? No? Yes?
[He sighs, and his posture deflates a little, shoulders hunching as he finally lands on the edge of Julian's stupid little platform and shoves his hands in pockets.]
I told you, I'm not playing stupid. You say you know what I'm doing, so how about you share with the class? Because, dude, I haven't the foggiest.
( his face isn't bad to look at? seriously? that's it? he's about to get real offended over how stupid of a comment that is because, first off, rude. do you know how hard he works to maintain the rest of his physique? how much work and effort goes into these abs? does this asshole know how hard it is to get good muscle definition when he doesn't have hands?
obviously he doesn't because he's still talking and julian's only really half paying attention because who the fuck thinks his face is maybe okay to look at but that's it?
except he remembers this conversation is really only a little about julian's own ego and quentin is still talking so julian - takes a few moments to process that all, really, because half listening really isn't doing him any favors here. )
I told you, man, you're obviously flirting with me. Anyone with eyes can see that. ( maybe it's just julian who sees it because he's julian. ) You keep bringing up shit like me not getting laid like - what, do you want me to fuck you? 'cause that's how it sounds to me.
[Wait is that—is that his only reaction? Just some braindead "hurr hurr you want me" bullshit? The same old crap??? Quentin had a whole stupid be a grownup thing, chased him down, poured out his goddamn little heart. And he gets this???? Unbelievable. Un-fucking-believable.
Quentin stares at Julian in incredulous shock for a second or two. Is his eye twitching? It might be twitching. And then he McFuckin Loses It, spreading his arms emphatically as once again, the Yelling begins.]
Okay, you know what? Sure. Yeah! Would I fuck you? Probably! And I'd knock your goddamn socks off, you stupid piece of shit. But it's not gonna happen! And you know why? Because you'd rather be a lonely miserable bastard than enjoy something for fucking once! Oh, and me? I just get the ole one-two "I know you're into me but don't forget you're not my type and never will be" punch to the dick. A classic, truly! Love that for me. Well, fuck you, dude. And not like that.
[He folds his arms irritably, finally done with his rant.
... Except wait no he has one more thing, curling his lip snidely as he delivers his final biting remark.]
Also. I haven't even begun to "flirt" with you, so maybe jot that down. Jerk.
( once again quentin just goes off and julian's really only half listening after the first. . five? six words that come out of his mouth because he already knows it's just quentin running his stupid mouth again over stupid shit that no one really cares about because he just - he does that. constantly. julian doesn't know how the hell the guy manages to tolerate himself with how much he refuses to shut up. like it'd be one thing if he had anything actually important to say but since when has quentin quire ever had that?
something something i'd fuck you something competitive in there about some bullshit about how he'd, what, show julian up? fat chance of that. blah blah blah, you're miserable and you refuse to not be miserable, which just sounds like the same shit he's already said. god. whatever. )
You know what'd be a great way to start? Learn to shut up, dude.
( somewhere between now and five second ago he's already committed to the idea in his head so it's too late to go back now and quentin's already down on his level so it takes less than two seconds to shove a forearm up against the fucking nerd's chest, pushing him back up against the building wall julian's platform is resting close to, and just - leans right into quentin quire's personal space like it's his to shove his mouth against quire's own in what's maybe a kiss but definitely an attempt to get him to shut up. )
[Oh great, is what goes through Quentin's brain when he sees Keller moving toward him, this shit again. Always a little too fast for Quentin's subpar reaction time, which he knows is annoying, shoving him, getting all in his personal space, crowding him against walls and shit just because he's got a little more muscle, and Quentin is too damn nice to use telepathy on the bastard. He's all set to bitch at him about the manhandling again except wait, hold on, his face is getting way closer than usual—is he—what—
?????????????????????????????????????
Okay, fine. Shutting Quentin Quire up achieved. Congratu-fucking-lations, Keller. And be grateful he does you the favor of not continuing to yap telepathically, asshole, because he totally could!! He is, however, going to make damn sure there's no "maybe" about this kiss, returning it fiercely. And he's gonna cram his fingers into Julian's stupid hair and curl them nice and tight. Just for good measure. It's been a while since Sophie cut it too, so perfect length to get a solid grip in there. Look, if Keller gets cold feet after pulling this shit, he deserves to get some clumps yanked out.]
( let it be known that julian keller is definitely not against casual makeouts. he is, in fact, an avid believer in them. makeouts are effortlessly fun, usually come with low to no consequences, and, you know, they're nice. has he frequently been rejected when he's jokingly asked girls to make out with him? yes. was he actually after getting them? very rarely. it's not like julian has any issues landing a date when he wants one, he's just - he likes a very specific thing in a very specific person and that specific person is just real good at breaking his heart, okay? and this is in absolutely no way even slightly about her so he just - going to immediately make sure he is definitely not thinking about her one bit. plus side of macking on quentin? it did immediately shut him up, even if he also did decide to take the opportunity to yank out julian's hair during. to be fair, he's probably lost way more hair to sharkgirl than quentin and his stupid noodley fingers.
cons? noodley fingers. not enough hair in the places julian would be reaching to grab onto hair for if he still had hands. on second thought, this is actually still quentin quire that he's shoved his face up against, so he's counting that as yet another con. pro: he can definitely pull out the and no one would ever believe you card right out of that stupid buddy cop show he binge watched that one time and despite quentin being a telepath, or maybe even just because of it, even if he did use that ability no one would still, ever, believe him if he said this happened.
it's not a deep kiss. not a particularly long one, either - just long enough to give him time to grab onto julian's hair, just enough to register it definitely happened before julian leans back just enough to give quentin a stupid smarmy grin and just, )
You're still not my type. And my socks? Still on.
( except he's still in quentin's personal space, not even making the attempt to put any distance between them despite the very obvious quentin quire not two breaths away from his face that would be plenty motivation to move back if he hadn't decided to just - play up the asshole card two steps further than julian might have if they hadn't been going at this for months already. )
[Is Quentin the teeniest tiniest bit flushed when Julian pulls away? Maybe. Mind your business. It's the lighting, he's in shadow, reflection, refraction, etc etc. Not that he has any fucking misconception that Keller will miss it, considering he's literally right there. Look at him, with his stupid smug face, all fucking proud of himself. And proud of what, huh? For doing something insanely hot but only for like 1 second? No. Unacceptable. Keller is definitely, obviously baiting him. All of his "my socks are still on" and the "nobody will believe you" thoughts that Quentin definitely heard. And he'll probably end up succeeding, because, well. Quite frankly Quentin is kinda easy to bait. But look, he's gonna at least make the asshole have to work a little harder.
There's no point in any of his usual theatrics. Shrugs, eyerolls, other types of affected nonchalance. Julian's like 2 inches away having just kissed him, and he's not moving away from where he's got Quentin pushed against the stupid wall. Subtlety is out the fucking window. He stares the bastard straight in the eye as he tilts his head to the side and smiles the type of smile that only appears on his face when he's about to say something particularly awful.]
Sooo just checking, you do typically last more than like... a few seconds, right? 'Cause I may need to reconsider some things if not.
[And yes, he does still have his hand in Julian's hair. At least he's not pulling on it?]
Do you want me to drop you? Because that's still an option.
( full recognition that he started this and he'll finish it too but also: finishing it could very well be just taking a step back and letting quentin figure out how to catch himself last minute because julian sure isn't going to bother once he lets go. and sure, he knows there's a few other people around here who theoretically could be flying, hovering, or otherwise meandering this high up on their stupid tower on this stupid planet but julian sure isn't seeing any of them right now so. feels like as good of a time as any to leave quentin to his own devices if he's going to be a jackass.
granted, quentin is always a jackass. this isn't anything new. it's just a matter of how much quentin deciding how much bullshit he wants to give julian to tolerate - because the drop's right there.
even if there's no physical space between them, even if it'd definitely mean losing a few chunks of his hair because quire's still holding onto him and julian isn't making him let go just yet. he could. but he isn't. )
[See, there's the thing. Julian isn't moving away, and he isn't trying to get Quentin to let go of his hair. He's here, talking shit and throwing around stupid threats and bullshit while actively choosing to stay weirdly, uncomfortably close to a guy he says he'd rather be nowhere near.
Hm.
There's a solid dozen or so killer one-liners he could use here. "Sure, you already let me down once." "Probably the only thrill I could get out of this." Really great material, if he says so himself. Truly inspired. Not that Julian has any respect for the craft. Ugh.
Which is why after opening his mouth to deliver one of said amazing comebacks, none of them end up actually coming out. Instead he just. Pauses. Looks from Keller's eyes to his mouth to the arm he's using to push Quentin into the wall. He huffs.]
Eh, fuck it.
[He may not have the physical muscle Keller has, but the dude's face is literally inches away, and there's really not that much difference in their height. His free hand grips onto the front of Julian's shirt—it's a move he ought to recognize, considering how many goddamn times he's done the same shit to Quentin—and he tugs, trying to drag the stupid jerk in for round 2. Turnabout's fair play, asshole.]
( there's usually a pretty clear path that happens between step a to be for julian, with these kind of situations. he could tell anyone the exact moment he figured out sofia mantega was the hottest thing to walk through xavier's right up until laura had waved her claws around. could also tell someone the exact moment he fell for her, too. hell, he knows exactly when his conversations with iara turned from playfully flirting to flirting with intent, and that - well. that was definitely more of a fling than anything. and now that he's thinking about it he's realizing he does have a stupidly specific type and ugh, this isn't the time for that at all.
point being, he could map out the moment his relationships went from playful and thoughtless to something deeper in most cases, but hell if he knows when exactly it clicked with him that this was where he was going with fucking quire of all people. it isn't the same, it's not even close, but it's - they're here, after going back and forth from antagonizing one another to trying to be more cordial to antagonizing in the space of moments on a rooftop surrounded by fucking dinosaurs and other bullshit julian really doesn't give two fucks about to - this nonsense, which is definitely still antagonistic in nature even if he's still fucking lost on where he's actually going with this. did he just shove quire up against a wall and kiss him? yes. but obviously he's winning somehow, because it's julian who is maintaining the flooring beneath them, julian who has his arm pressed up against quentin's collar, julian who has the high ground which is especially obvious if quentin's making stupid bullshit comments about how long julian can last.
because he's trying to run his mouth but he's got fucking nothing walking into this. nothing. does julian? no. but he doesn't need leverage. even if he is - doing the thing he didn't explicitly say he wasn't going to do because the whole i'm straight comment definitely implied it hard enough he didn't think it was necessary and yet here he is. doing it. did he hate kissing quire? probably not nearly as much as he should have, considering it wasn't the worst and when quire does go to drag him back in, julian isn't necessarily fighting it. no, instead he's just - putting a little more pressure into that arm he still has against quentin's chest, pressing him hard up against the wall so he can lean right into his space as if it was his idea, not quentin's hands gripping onto him that led him into it.
there's a split second in time in which his mind goes to sophie - before he remembers that she could not give less fucks about what the two of them are up to on their own time as long as they aren't being unnecessarily loud and obnoxious anywhere near her business which they clearly aren't - before he decides, fuck it, they're already here, he's already shoving into quentin's space, he doesn't hate it and just -
yeah, fuck it. his mouth slots against quentin's again but it's a little less forceful this time. less quick. he's holding quentin upright still, but the kiss is more of a kiss rather than a punch in the mouth with his own mouth. )
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( to be fair to quentin, they've talked about some of julian's own insecurities when they were both being stupid at one another before. and he isn't even close to wrong about how julian feels about them most the time. unfortunately, he's now brought it up as if it's a shortcoming on julian's part to julian's face which means julian now has to get overly defensive over the thing he is actually a little insecure about. )
Maybe you should've paid closer attention during telekinesis lessons, idiot, because I don't need hands to do this. ( doesn't even need to move any closer to quentin, really. the metal hand stays where it's at, too, but there's the sensation of something very hand-like that wraps tight around quentin's forearm, while that same telekinetic aura wraps tight around the front of quentin's shirt, gripping on tight with full intention of throwing him straight off the rooftop they've been sitting on quietly up until now - well. for the most part. )
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Well, on the bright side, Julian usually doesn't give Quentin this much warning. He's typically more of the "senseless violence first, talk later" type. Which means this time when he feels that telekinetic hand wrapping around his arm, he knows what's coming and isn't taken completely by surprise when Keller attempts to unceremoniously chuck him off the roof.]
Hey, wait—no, nope, nonono—fuck—
[Quentin doesn't flex his TK nearly as much as Keller, but he's no slouch in that department either. He gets dragged to the edge of the roof, the front of his shirt and arm leaning heavily in that direction while the rest of him braces, but fuck if he's not going to resist with all of his above average telekinetic muscle going over. Not because he'd actually fall, obviously. It's just, you know. The indignity.]
Fine, Jesus, I'm sure you're perfectly satisfactory in the sack, okay? All the ladies are so hot for your ultra sexy TK bullshit or whatever. Fucking hell, dude!
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Who the hell needs hands to get someone off anyway? Especially ladies. I've got a mouth, asshole. Why are we even talking about this? Jesus.
( why is he overcompensating by mentioning that he doesn't need hands when he's also actively using psuedohands to semi-shove quentin towards the edge of the roof. why are they like this. and why does quentin's presence make him act even more stupid? christ. )
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[Okay, technically they're both talking about... whatever the fuck this is. But still. Quentin's a little distracted at the moment trying not to get pushed off a roof. Give him a break, okay??]
Yeah, yeah, you're very handsome and a generous lover clearly, but quick question: who gives a shit? Why the hell's it so goddamn important to you that I know what a great fuck you are, anyway? And for that matter, why do you care whether or not I would fuck you?? Last time I checked you were all aboard the "no homo" train, choo choo motherfucker.
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( he's yelling but also sounds very unsure about why he's yelling which is really just shitty all the way around. but he does stop trying to shove quentin off the rooftop, albeit suddenly and all at once letting up the pressure so it's just - one moment he's getting shoved, the next there's nothing even close to him. )
And you brought up that I won't get laid! Like, all of this started with you? Why the hell are you coming at it like I started it!?
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I said you won't get laid because you won't. By choice. You're addicted to being miserable, you sad sack. Got jack shit to do with any of your "capabilities" or lack thereof, as the case may be. What I don't understand is you insisting on dragging me in your stupid pity party—like, oh, I clearly want in your pants soooo badly I shall perish from a broken heart! Alas, if only you came down from your goddamn throne of heterosexuality to grace me with your presence. Give me a fucking break.
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because one: he knows he didn't bring it up. he did not start this! quentin did. quentin always starts it then manages to loop it back around like it was julian all along and julian fucking hates it. why is he such a dick? does he do this on purpose? stupid question, of course it's on purpose. of course he's doing this to fuck with him. but what the hell is the point of fucking with him like this? )
You're an ass. ( stating the obvious will clearly help him. anyway - with a click of his tongue, julian's pulling himself up to his feet, and - stepping off the ledge of the rooftop onto a green platform. ) And I know what you're doing, so don't play stupid!
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Huh...?
[He is! What a—um. Hm. What insult works for this? Coward? Jerk? Dullard? Whatever. Quentin scrambles to his feet to, uh. Point accusingly—if somewhat uncertainly—at Keller.]
Bullshit! If I don't know what I'm doing, how the fuck would you know, huh? Ha! Checkmate!
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( now they're back to the pointing game. okay. fine! he can play that. from his own little platform just enough distance away from the roof that he can't quite reach quentin or jump over to him without having to fly over, but he's definitely pointing back. threateningly! and menacingly! here they are, doing the pointing bit! )
Or maybe that's part of it, huh?! You're playing stupid on purpose! What happened to being an egotistical genius!
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[Hang on. Quentin stops mid-sentence, the record scratch in his head almost audible. Downside of having a brain that moves so fast: sometimes his thoughts get so far ahead that it takes a minute for the rest of him to catch up.
His eyes go to his still-pointing finger, then to Julian's, then his face, then back to his own hand, visibly computing... something.]
I don't know—what—
[His voice is softer, almost like he's just thinking out loud, and his brow furrows in concern.
And then whatever was computing in there finishes. Quentin drops his hand, his posture immediately shifting to something looser. Casual. Unbothered. He shrugs with both arms and steps back from the edge of the roof, glancing around as if choosing a direction to make his exit.]
Whatever, ain't important. Good talk, though. Try not to die out there.
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is that it? julian bets that's it. his eyes narrow, hand dropping down so he can cross both arms over his chest and just - )
See? Playing stupid again. What is it?
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[It slips out, tone a little too sharp. He pauses for a beat, glancing at Julian without moving his head, and tries again. Nonchalant this time. He idly inspects his fingernails for a moment.]
Look, the conversation wasn't going anywhere. Outlived its usefulness, so I'm putting it out of both of our miseries. You're welcome.
[He looks over and makes a loose shooing gesture.]
If you wanna go, you can. Nobody's stoppin' ya.
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unless he's intentionally trying to get julian to dig his heels in and push back by doing something that sounds obviously like he wouldn't do it.
jesus. see? this is why he hates quentin. the asshole makes him stand here and think and julian doesn't like it. )
Fine. Whatever. Suit yourself. ( because he's raising a hand in a halfassed wave and lowering himself down and away from the rooftop, thank you. )
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Nice going, Quire. Keller's leaving, and why is that? Duh, because you told him to. Oh, what, did you think he was going to dig in his heels and do his whole stubborn "no I'm going to take care of you because I have a pathological need to take responsibility for everything and everyone" routine? Well... kinda. But on the other hand they literally just had a conversation about how Julian needs to let go, and that's what he's doing. Letting go. As, well. As he should, honestly. Not like it's Keller's fault Quentin's a fucking basketcase who pushed away the one person he can actually talk to in this hellhole just like he pushes everyone away. Because nobody can abandon you if you get rid of them first, right? Jesus, and he called Julian lonely and miserable. Look in the fuckin' mirror, buddy. Look in the mirror and for fuck's sake get your shit together and grow the hell up.
.... Fine. Christ. Being a halfway functional person sucks, but he'll do it. He guesses. Quentin sullenly hops off the roof and drops until he can hover a few feet away from Julian.]
Wait. Fuck. Okay. [He makes a face and runs his hand through his hair uncomfortably.]
Okay. Well. First? If you breathe one single word of this, I will make sure you smell nothing but rancid socks for five months. At least. Or whenever it stops being funny for me. Got it?
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except the asshole follows after him and opens his mouth again and julian - stupidly, for reasons unknown to him, rolls his eyes and widens the platform he's standing on to make it large enough for two regardless of what quire decides to do, arms crossing over his chest.
if he looks annoyed it's because he is. but that's unsurprising. quentin always manages to find some way to piss him off. is it a secondary mutation? julian bets it is. )
I can keep a secret when someone tells me it's supposed to be one.
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No. No. Deep breath, count to ten, all that crap. Quentin stares at Julian in irritated shock for a moment and then collects himself. Sort of. He eyes the expanded platform but doesn't take the offer, staying right where he is. For now, at least. Oh, and he waves away that stupid thing Keller said with an obligatory eye roll. Moving on.]
Right, well, anyway.
[He takes in a sharp breath through his nose and lets it out in a huff that's only a little bit shaky. Good enough.]
That night. In the kitchen, yeah? Something... changed. For me, I mean. 'Cause before it was like, well, face ain't bad to look at I guess but. Eh. [He looks Julian up and down briefly and shrugs.] And then suddenly it was—well, look, I knew, but shit's never really come up before with a guy who wasn't, like. Super not my type, okay? It's not like with a girl. But then I started hooking up with Sophie, and then you disappeared, and none of this was supposed to fucking matter due to, oh, approximately eighteen thousand reasons, not least of which—you're straight. And why should I waste my precious time thinking about anybody who doesn't even swing my way, you know? But then this crap keeps happening, and it's like, well does it matter or not? You feel me? Picking up what I'm putting down? No? Yes?
[He sighs, and his posture deflates a little, shoulders hunching as he finally lands on the edge of Julian's stupid little platform and shoves his hands in pockets.]
I told you, I'm not playing stupid. You say you know what I'm doing, so how about you share with the class? Because, dude, I haven't the foggiest.
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obviously he doesn't because he's still talking and julian's only really half paying attention because who the fuck thinks his face is maybe okay to look at but that's it?
except he remembers this conversation is really only a little about julian's own ego and quentin is still talking so julian - takes a few moments to process that all, really, because half listening really isn't doing him any favors here. )
I told you, man, you're obviously flirting with me. Anyone with eyes can see that. ( maybe it's just julian who sees it because he's julian. ) You keep bringing up shit like me not getting laid like - what, do you want me to fuck you? 'cause that's how it sounds to me.
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Quentin stares at Julian in incredulous shock for a second or two. Is his eye twitching? It might be twitching. And then he McFuckin Loses It, spreading his arms emphatically as once again, the Yelling begins.]
Okay, you know what? Sure. Yeah! Would I fuck you? Probably! And I'd knock your goddamn socks off, you stupid piece of shit. But it's not gonna happen! And you know why? Because you'd rather be a lonely miserable bastard than enjoy something for fucking once! Oh, and me? I just get the ole one-two "I know you're into me but don't forget you're not my type and never will be" punch to the dick. A classic, truly! Love that for me. Well, fuck you, dude. And not like that.
[He folds his arms irritably, finally done with his rant.
... Except wait no he has one more thing, curling his lip snidely as he delivers his final biting remark.]
Also. I haven't even begun to "flirt" with you, so maybe jot that down. Jerk.
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something something i'd fuck you something competitive in there about some bullshit about how he'd, what, show julian up? fat chance of that. blah blah blah, you're miserable and you refuse to not be miserable, which just sounds like the same shit he's already said. god. whatever. )
You know what'd be a great way to start? Learn to shut up, dude.
( somewhere between now and five second ago he's already committed to the idea in his head so it's too late to go back now and quentin's already down on his level so it takes less than two seconds to shove a forearm up against the fucking nerd's chest, pushing him back up against the building wall julian's platform is resting close to, and just - leans right into quentin quire's personal space like it's his to shove his mouth against quire's own in what's maybe a kiss but definitely an attempt to get him to shut up. )
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?????????????????????????????????????
Okay, fine. Shutting Quentin Quire up achieved. Congratu-fucking-lations, Keller. And be grateful he does you the favor of not continuing to yap telepathically, asshole, because he totally could!! He is, however, going to make damn sure there's no "maybe" about this kiss, returning it fiercely. And he's gonna cram his fingers into Julian's stupid hair and curl them nice and tight. Just for good measure. It's been a while since Sophie cut it too, so perfect length to get a solid grip in there. Look, if Keller gets cold feet after pulling this shit, he deserves to get some clumps yanked out.]
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cons? noodley fingers. not enough hair in the places julian would be reaching to grab onto hair for if he still had hands. on second thought, this is actually still quentin quire that he's shoved his face up against, so he's counting that as yet another con. pro: he can definitely pull out the and no one would ever believe you card right out of that stupid buddy cop show he binge watched that one time and despite quentin being a telepath, or maybe even just because of it, even if he did use that ability no one would still, ever, believe him if he said this happened.
it's not a deep kiss. not a particularly long one, either - just long enough to give him time to grab onto julian's hair, just enough to register it definitely happened before julian leans back just enough to give quentin a stupid smarmy grin and just, )
You're still not my type. And my socks? Still on.
( except he's still in quentin's personal space, not even making the attempt to put any distance between them despite the very obvious quentin quire not two breaths away from his face that would be plenty motivation to move back if he hadn't decided to just - play up the asshole card two steps further than julian might have if they hadn't been going at this for months already. )
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There's no point in any of his usual theatrics. Shrugs, eyerolls, other types of affected nonchalance. Julian's like 2 inches away having just kissed him, and he's not moving away from where he's got Quentin pushed against the stupid wall. Subtlety is out the fucking window. He stares the bastard straight in the eye as he tilts his head to the side and smiles the type of smile that only appears on his face when he's about to say something particularly awful.]
Sooo just checking, you do typically last more than like... a few seconds, right? 'Cause I may need to reconsider some things if not.
[And yes, he does still have his hand in Julian's hair. At least he's not pulling on it?]
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( full recognition that he started this and he'll finish it too but also: finishing it could very well be just taking a step back and letting quentin figure out how to catch himself last minute because julian sure isn't going to bother once he lets go. and sure, he knows there's a few other people around here who theoretically could be flying, hovering, or otherwise meandering this high up on their stupid tower on this stupid planet but julian sure isn't seeing any of them right now so. feels like as good of a time as any to leave quentin to his own devices if he's going to be a jackass.
granted, quentin is always a jackass. this isn't anything new. it's just a matter of how much quentin deciding how much bullshit he wants to give julian to tolerate - because the drop's right there.
even if there's no physical space between them, even if it'd definitely mean losing a few chunks of his hair because quire's still holding onto him and julian isn't making him let go just yet. he could. but he isn't. )
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Hm.
There's a solid dozen or so killer one-liners he could use here. "Sure, you already let me down once." "Probably the only thrill I could get out of this." Really great material, if he says so himself. Truly inspired. Not that Julian has any respect for the craft. Ugh.
Which is why after opening his mouth to deliver one of said amazing comebacks, none of them end up actually coming out. Instead he just. Pauses. Looks from Keller's eyes to his mouth to the arm he's using to push Quentin into the wall. He huffs.]
Eh, fuck it.
[He may not have the physical muscle Keller has, but the dude's face is literally inches away, and there's really not that much difference in their height. His free hand grips onto the front of Julian's shirt—it's a move he ought to recognize, considering how many goddamn times he's done the same shit to Quentin—and he tugs, trying to drag the stupid jerk in for round 2. Turnabout's fair play, asshole.]
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point being, he could map out the moment his relationships went from playful and thoughtless to something deeper in most cases, but hell if he knows when exactly it clicked with him that this was where he was going with fucking quire of all people. it isn't the same, it's not even close, but it's - they're here, after going back and forth from antagonizing one another to trying to be more cordial to antagonizing in the space of moments on a rooftop surrounded by fucking dinosaurs and other bullshit julian really doesn't give two fucks about to - this nonsense, which is definitely still antagonistic in nature even if he's still fucking lost on where he's actually going with this. did he just shove quire up against a wall and kiss him? yes. but obviously he's winning somehow, because it's julian who is maintaining the flooring beneath them, julian who has his arm pressed up against quentin's collar, julian who has the high ground which is especially obvious if quentin's making stupid bullshit comments about how long julian can last.
because he's trying to run his mouth but he's got fucking nothing walking into this. nothing. does julian? no. but he doesn't need leverage. even if he is - doing the thing he didn't explicitly say he wasn't going to do because the whole i'm straight comment definitely implied it hard enough he didn't think it was necessary and yet here he is. doing it. did he hate kissing quire? probably not nearly as much as he should have, considering it wasn't the worst and when quire does go to drag him back in, julian isn't necessarily fighting it. no, instead he's just - putting a little more pressure into that arm he still has against quentin's chest, pressing him hard up against the wall so he can lean right into his space as if it was his idea, not quentin's hands gripping onto him that led him into it.
there's a split second in time in which his mind goes to sophie - before he remembers that she could not give less fucks about what the two of them are up to on their own time as long as they aren't being unnecessarily loud and obnoxious anywhere near her business which they clearly aren't - before he decides, fuck it, they're already here, he's already shoving into quentin's space, he doesn't hate it and just -
yeah, fuck it. his mouth slots against quentin's again but it's a little less forceful this time. less quick. he's holding quentin upright still, but the kiss is more of a kiss rather than a punch in the mouth with his own mouth. )
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