fifthcurriculum | INTRO LOG

[He's not proud of the fact that he followed Ryan the day before to find out where his room was. He's not proud of a lot of things right now, like how harried Petre really has him, or that he's going to a guy he barely knows about it. Going to anyone about it. He deals with his own shit, because he doesn't want anyone else's.

But here he is, knocking on Ryan's door. Sending out - he doesn't know what, just a sense of who it is. At least he hopes it'll work, and not be a frenzied mess of confusion and near-panic.]

[The confusion and panic might be there, but he's had mental contact with John before. Ryan recognizes that presence, especially with John actively trying to let him know, and he answers quickly enough; there's an impression of concern with his thoughts when he does.]

-John? It's not locked, you can come in.

[He opens the door slowly, stepping in and just standing there for a moment before closing it again.]

I don't do this. [Show up unannounced at rooms he's stalked out. Lose his cool this badly. Share with people.] There's nobody else.

[It probably sounds much more shady than it is, until he finally just says:] I need to talk.

[At first Ryan's just confused by that, head slightly tilted-- there is no way this is what it sounds like-- but then he says he needs to talk and those first comments suddenly make sense. He exhales a heavy breath, gestures for him to come sit.]

What's going on?

Would you believe someone's on a targeted campaign to destroy my life?

[It's said with a sigh, as he sits heavily at the end of the bed and scoots all the way against the wall with his legs drawn up. Normally he wouldn't just help himself to a guy's bed, and Ryan's exactly the kind of guy he'd avoid that with most, but Ryan is just so amazingly tame compared to what he's been dealing with that thinking of him as a threat is borderline hilarious. He doesn't even consider the action as he does it, gives it no thought.]

...that bad, huh.

[Ryan scoots over next to him-- not right up against John, leaving him some space, but near enough. That posture's pretty telling, and he's got the feeling this isn't a talk to be had from opposite ends of the bed.]

What's going on? How'd you piss someone off that badly?

I already told you about him. [His glance does flick over briefly when Ryan ends up so close, but it slides away again, back to the wall in front of him.] The one who's always coming on to me. We didn't end up friends 'cause we - well, I doubt you missed the "Fuck Xavier's" burned into the lawn on the last day of term last year. That was us.

But when it got back to the teachers, it was me. He didn't know anything about it. And he can fuck with minds, make people think anything he wants, so I just ended up looking like I was trying to drag anyone I could down with me. That's when I didn't want anything else to do with him.

[His fingers drive through his hair, ball into fists.]

But he won't give up. He either drives me so crazy I come after him and end up in shit for that - did I mention he's impervious to fire? - or he just makes things up. Pulls pranks and convinces people it's me. The last one got us stuck in the same dorm room 'cause apparently discipline's not working so we're stuck together until we make up. I've already torched half the shit on his dresser and ended up in detention with him for it, and then he went at me until I punched him in the face because that actually works.

[It really sounds a lot more like the rantings of a deranged lunatic than anything that could happen in real life. But this isn't real life, after all; this is Xavier's.]

[That leaves Ryan quiet for several long seconds. He has no idea what to say to that-- not because it sounds over the top, he believes it all just fine, but because it sounds like such a dead-end situation. There might be ways of dealing with people, sure, but when they've got a power like that...]

Why? Because he can blame shit on you? What's he even want, that's just- I don't even know what it is, John.

[He lifts his head, pieces of hair all hanging over his forehead after the way he tugged on it, and looks at Ryan flatly.]

He wants me.

[A few seconds of silence to let that settle in, and then he elaborates.]

He won't fuck with my head. Doesn't make me do anything. He wants it all to come from me. He wants to break me.

--that's really fucked up.

[It's the first thing that pops into his head, just blurted right out before he huffs out a breath and shakes his head.]

I don't even know where you'd start trying to deal with that. Without the power, maybe, but if he's messing with other people...

I don't even know if there is any dealing with it. Goddamnit. I just -

[Needed to talk. The urge was so foreign that he doesn't know how to describe it, really.]

- had to get it out. I guess.

It helps. I mean, sometimes even if you're just talking at nothing, it helps.

[He's definitely familiar with that himself. There have been several conversations with animals (and some trashed journal pages) when he didn't really have anyone he felt like going to.]

...If you need to get away from him for a while you can come over here, okay? And if my roommate's in we can just hang out somewhere else.

I'd go to therapy if I wanted to have long talks about my feelings.

[Such a lie. He'd never go to therapy.

But it's an indication of just how deeply he's isolated himself from others, that the very idea of a talk like this is on par with therapy for him. He had to get by on his own, other than the bonds he made for survival, and the few people he did let in never got very far. Just tolerating their presence was a step for him after the constant bullying (on both sides) at school and sheer emotional distance from his parents, and then what came after.]

You weren't that big on my idea of hanging out last time. [A wry grin touches his lips, and it feels like a blessed relief.]

Talking about your feelings isn't necessarily therapy, John.

[Somehow he's not surprised that they're apparently close enough, though. He's picked up by now that John's not the open type, or at least he isn't when it comes to things that are actually personal.

So he moves on easily enough, doesn't push the subject- Ryan gives him an amused little grin in response, reaching up to flick one of those out of place pieces of hair off his forehead.]

Not when we were definitely going to get caught, no. I can take risks sometimes, okay, but I still have a sense of self-preservation.

[The gesture catches him off-guard, and he automatically jerks his head away from it, but has the good grace to look somewhat ashamed afterward.]

It's not you. I believed - believe you. Just not used to that kinda thing. [He's smoothing his hair back into place now, for something to do while he gathers his thoughts. God, he's jittery. This has gotten to him worse than he thought.

Eventually, his own smile comes back.]

So what's an acceptable risk? Your biggest. I got a hell of an answer last time I asked someone this, but she's only ten or something, so not the stiffest competition.

[He looks guilty for a moment, hand quickly pulling back-- right, John's twitchy about that-- but the reassurance helps ease that look off his face quickly enough.

And that question, that makes him blush. Ryan's not sure whether to even answer it at first, but knowing his head? It's going to get out now that he's thought about it, especially if he tries not to think about thinking. He manages a little grin that's both sheepish and proud.]

The biggest one? ...snuck into the math room after hours once.

[Ryan doesn't say for what, but the flickers of thought slipping through give some pretty good hints. Remembered nervousness, hands brushing skin.]

[Yeah, that's a big one. And knowing what he does about Ryan, he has no idea how to react at first. But then a slow grin spreads across his face, until he's all teeth and glittering eyes.]

Holy shit. Holy shit. You have got hidden depths, man.

[He can't help but laugh at that, another one that's almost audible, as his face flushes a little more pink.]

Nobody's a wallflower a hundred percent of the time, right? I'm just- picky about my reasons.

[Those are almost annoyingly charming. He looks away, amused and mildly irritated, and lets go of his legs to stretch them out in front of him, feet hanging off the edge.]

And horniness apparently tops the list. Better hope you never meet him, he'll have you snared in seconds.

Excuse you, it was curiosity, not hormones.

[...yeah, no, it was a healthy dose of both. The reminder makes him curious, though, and his grin fades to a more thoughtful look as he peers at John.]

-so if I should be keeping an eye out, who is this guy?

Curiosity. Right. Just wondering what it'd be like to fuck in a classroom after hours. Almost scientific if you think about it that way.

[He's having way too much fun with this. An easy target who rolls with it is new in his life, and it actually blunts his edge a little.

But yes, there's that reminder, and his brows pinch down sharply. Like a fast-brewing storm.]

Petre Dodrescu. About my height, blonde, some kind of accent. Dresses like a - [That thought's headed off right at the pass.] - fancy.

(how's that for a pickup line. 'let me kiss you for science'.)

[Another little twitch of a grin at that thought-- but when John answers, it instantly disappears. Everything does, really: Ryan's thoughts go blank as he just sort of stares over at John, blinking.

There's no way, alright. There are just... two alarmingly similar guys who are both named Petre, obviously, that's got to be it. He definitely did not do anything with the same guy John says is fucking with him.

God, what is his life.]

No, wait, he said he knew you. [John hasn't noticed the reaction yet. He also doesn't mention that it was mainly to rub in the fact that Ryan appeared to have a crush on John, since they're calling truce over that.

Then he glances over, curious at the lack of reaction. Then confused.

Then horrified.]

Oh fuck, Ryan, you're not that stupid. Tell me you're not that stupid.

Edited 2014-09-20 04:40 (UTC)

I- I didn't know, okay-

(I didn't know he seemed fine and he was cute it just happened)

[That deer in the headlights look stays plastered on his face for a few more moments before Ryan bites his lip, folds his arms across his chest.]

...he suggested it might keep my head quieter. And he was attractive, and he was offering, and I hadn't ever-- I didn't know, John.

Oh, cute. That's a great line. Might as well have been kissing for science.

[He's up and off the bed, pacing irritably.]

This is because I said it. It was a joke, he brought you up like he was trying to make me jealous, and I said you two could ride off into the sunset for all I cared. Or something. Because he pissed me off. I didn't mean it!

Ryan's room | one week later

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