Things got unfine on Elective Hall

Jean Wolfe

July 31, 2020 6:52 AM

Things got unfine by Jean Wolfe

Everything was a little weird. It had been since last night. Since he and Katey had got the call to the pitch. Or rather Katey had. He had automatically followed, but been pushed out. He had obeyed without thinking anything of it. At first, he’d assumed it was a student he didn’t have permission to see, but he’d seen Katey get his file from the regular drawers instead of the restricted one.

He had been asked to leave again this morning. More gently, and with an apology if he’d been yelled at the previous day. That was one of many very peculiar things. It had been a medical emergency, and Professor Skies was the deputy headmistress. It struck him as far more strange that she felt the need to apologise for her tone of voice than that she’d barked an order at him in the first place.

He was to spend the morning out of the hospital wing, because they had a specialist coming. He had risked asking what kind. Professor Skies had seemed to weigh up whether to tell him. She must have realised that he’d caught a glimpse yesterday. That he knew that people didn’t drop to earth without a broomstick anywhere in sight very often. And that, for all she was clearly aiming to keep him at arm’s length from the situation, she had answered that honestly. Because she seemed to think there might be some value in him talking to the woman.

He had assured her that wouldn’t be necessary, grabbed his running stuff and left as quickly as he could. He figured that would be a good use of the time. He figured he could do with clearing his head a little. Hopefully he could catch Dorian when he didn’t have classes but first he needed to put his thoughts in order. However, by the time he had changed there was a nagging feeling. He could escape. He could get free of the hospital wing and run until it felt like it wasn’t following him. But there were some things that were not going to be resolved by pounding along a path in circles.

He made his way instead to Killian’s office. He chewed over his words and his problems as he went, still not quite sure how much he was going to say. He wasn’t totally sure how much he was allowed to say.

“Hello,” he said, when after knocking he was admitted to the office. “It is not breaking confidentiality to talk to you?” he checked. Killian was one of his supervisors, although really, he oversaw the college application side of thing. For medical questions, Jean-Loup supposed he was supposed to go to Katey, and that he was potentially meant to keep medical information between them only. “Or you know already what happen?” he checked. It seemed like the sort of thing where staff would know, but he didn’t want to get it wrong. But Katey was busy, and he was worried.

13 Jean Wolfe Things got unfine 1506 1 5

Killian Row

July 31, 2020 10:58 AM

They really did, didn't they? by Killian Row

It was decided. Killian was not going to get within a hundred meters of a Master's program in psychology. He just wasn't. Unless it was to make an appointment with someone who had one because that was probably something he'd need to do at some point. He sort of wished he had one of those fun muggle spinny chairs so he could just . . . spin. Spin and spin and spin until his head centrifuged itself out of nonsense, separating his thoughts into the appropriate types of things. He'd stick labels on them like 'stuff I don't want to think about right now', 'stuff I never want to think about ever', and 'stuff I should probably think about right now but still don't wanna'. Those were about the only categories of thoughts in his head when someone knocked on his door.

He lifted his eyes to the door from the pile of things on his desk, untouched since the previous night except a few new sheets of paper with scrawls of random thoughts written on them, and considered. There were a number of people he did not want to talk to right now and a number of people he would like to (the second list was much shorter). There were also a number of people who probably wanted to talk to him right now for academic purposes, and a number who might like to talk to him because of a lot of the stuff in the third category of thoughts. And the other two for that matter. He was going to have to get better about boundary setting and now that he knew a little more about the counselor that most frequently provided services on campus, he sure as heck was going to start referring people. Excuse me, I know you work with kids, but can you also help 35-year-old men who sometimes act like children? Asking for a friend.

With a deep breath, he un-slouched in his chair and raised his voice to let the person in. Seeing Jean-Loup, Killian gave himself a mental high-five for being so good at this; it was someone who he did not want to talk to because he was probably wanting to talk about something in one or all of the three thought categories, and someone he would like to talk to just 'cuz. So this was fun.

He was glad that Jean-Loup knew that confidential didn't mean secret because that was not a thing that Killian relished in explaining over and over again to students, so he was able to just nod. "I probably do," Killian replied, waving his wand at a pot that was usually reserved for tea but was currently full of coffee, heating it up so he would have something strong enough to keep him going today. It floated over and poured two cups on his desk before returning to its safe place out of arm's reach. "Unless you're here to tell me that a desert troll has somehow made its way onto campus, although I doubt that somehow." He blinked wearily at Jean-Loup as he took a sip of his coffee. It tasted basically terrible, but the bags under Killian's eyes were evidence enough that he had gotten little to no sleep the previous night and he was willing to brave it. "Sorry," he grimaced. "I probably look a bit awful, but I am happy for company and happy to talk. Have a seat. What's going on?"

22 Killian Row They really did, didn't they? 1450 0 5

Jean Wolfe

July 31, 2020 9:18 PM

And they're fixing them all wrong by Jean Wolfe

CW for thread - stigmatising terms for mental health conditions, bad experiences with mental health services

Probably. Something something desert troll. I look awful.

“That is a yes?” Jean-Loup confirmed, declining to try any kind of tactful comment on the last point, as he was fairly sure both negative and positive answers were equally dangerous. Killian looked tired. Jean-Loup wasn’t sure whether that meant he was using more words and less logic than usual, or whether he himself had just got unused to how Killian talked again since their last meeting. Of course, maybe it was him. Maybe he was preoccupied. He was being told to stay and to talk, so he took a seat and a cup of coffee, grateful for the safe familiarity. He took his time stirring cream and sugar into his cup, trying to work out what to say.

“There comes a woman to the hospital wing today. She calls herself Doctor Greene,” he stated, and it was hard to say whether this was overly literal translation from his first language or a commentary on her chosen title. He was frowning into his coffee cup as he said it. “She is psychologiste,” he stated, his pronunciation naturally lapsing into the French, with its prominent ‘p’ sound at the beginning (after all, who had ever heard of a silent initial ‘p’?) and vowels which slanted away from the English way of doing things. It sounded bitter and angry, in a way that the accent alone didn’t account for.

“I think that’s… not nice. And not good,” he concluded tentatively. He didn’t want to question his superiors. There was still a part of his brain, however many rules he broke, that said order and hierarchy were important. But he’d always had trouble obeying them when they didn’t behave how he thought they ought to. He was also conflicted because what Felipe had done clearly was kind of crazy. People who were thinking rationally did not throw themselves off high towers. But the trouble with involving Doctor Green... “Telling someone they are crazy…. Giving them shame. I think this cannot help.”

13 Jean Wolfe And they're fixing them all wrong 1506 0 5

Killian Row

July 31, 2020 9:56 PM

Time to unpack some baggage. by Killian Row

There were few things that could make Killian feel better but a good distraction was one of them and a good puzzle was a good distraction. The healing intern in his first out-of-the-closet experience to Killian's knowledge and a history of top-shelf family issues didn't think the psychiatrist should come in for the suicidal teen? That was very interesting. And said a lot about his history with similar professionals. Killian didn't know Dr. Greene but knew her name for referral's sake, as well as knowing that she was great, because otherwise she wouldn't be here.

"I agree," Killian said, wanting Jean-Loup to know that they agreed on content and it may be a matter of definition. "Do you think that that's what she's going to do?" he asked. "It sounds like you've maybe had some experiences with psychiatrists."

Killian himself had never seen one (like the 'go to appointments' kind of seen, obviously he'd witnessed the existence of a psychiatrist before) and thought that he probably should. He also could understand a reluctance to do so and was hesitant to suggest it himself for that reason. Still, it wasn't because of any concerns over shame or any such thing, so much as discomfort and the stigmas associated with it.

"The goal, I think, is to help with healing, not make him feel ashamed. It sounds like you've maybe had bad experiences," Killian said, making it a question and an observation all at once. It was an invitation to say more, or to think about it more, or to drink coffee and be quiet and maybe everyone could just take a nap.

22 Killian Row Time to unpack some baggage. 1450 0 5

Jean Wolfe

July 31, 2020 10:44 PM

Will it hurt? by Jean Wolfe

He agreed. Jean-Loup felt the fluttering hope of reassurance, that someone here knew and understood and was not going to let bad things happen- and then bam. He steadied his hand in time. His coffee mug did not slip and hit the floor. But it visibly jerked as Killian called him out. Jean-Loup was a guarded person. The fact of his whole face shutting down and closing out the person in front of him should not have been so obvious. But he usually did it with a smile. That neat, charming social smile that deflected their attention. But there was no smile to be pulled out when it came to this subject. He also had been wearing that less and less around Killian lately anyway. He had trusted him. They were abruptly back to their first meeting, in the salon at Tumbleweed, Jean-Loup’s face hard, closed, and, beyond anything else, alarmed.

He stared out his cup of coffee rather than looking at Killian, and was forced to be the one to concede and blink first.

“You think there is something about me that suggests… need of this?” he asked, looking up and regarding Killian warily. “I’m not crazy,” he stated, clearly on the defensive.

“You seem to trust them a lot,” Jean-Loup said, sounding almost disappointed. He remembered the various leaflets that Killian had pushed across him at the table in Tumbleweed, many of them boasting that they had counselling services, or family reconciliation like that wasn’t a giant red flag. “Why? They say nice things,” he added, pretty sure at this point that Killian could never have met a real one, only read their hollow little lies, “Say they will do good. But they don’t.”

13 Jean Wolfe Will it hurt? 1506 0 5

Killian Row

July 31, 2020 10:54 PM

Very very much. by Killian Row

Killian had messed up. He could see it. He flinched, surprised by the pain of being pushed out so suddenly. It wasn't like he wasn't used to it fro other people, but not from Jean-Loup. Not for a very long time. "I think that everyone could do with some help from someone who knows what they're talking about," he replied quietly, not bothering to try to push humor into this moment. He ran his hand over his neck, through his hair, and down his face. "I certainly could," he added, mostly to himself.

He sat forward, resting his elbows on the table and leaning towards Jean-Loup. "Hey," he said softly. "I think you're perfect just the way you are," he promised. "There's nothing wrong with you, and that isn't what I meant," he said, almost fiercely. It was his assertive voice, again. This was something he really believed. "And you're not crazy," he agreed. "You sound like you've had experience because you are passionate about it, not because anything is wrong."

Killian didn't want to get into this. He really really didn't. He didn't want to mess this up because he wasn't at his peak right now, and he wasn't sure he could handle messing up for Jean-Loup. It was hard to say why that mattered so much to him, but it did. He didn't want to lose a friendship that was only just blossoming. "There are very bad ones," Killian agreed. "But... well, I'm in the same line of work in a lot of ways. My job is to help youth figure out their lives and their futures and who they are. I don't do that through the science of psychology, but I still do it." He leaned back in his chair, not wanting to push too hard on Jean-Loup's walls. "There are psychiatrists, like guidance counselors, who have done immeasurable harm - a whole lot of harm - and there are those who have saved lives. Dr. Greene has a very good reputation for being kind and listening, and she does not make people feel ashamed."

He took a breath, not sure how to proceed. That wasn't like him. Well . . . it was. He was winging it super often. But he usually had a place he was trying to get to and it was a matter of puzzling his way there. Now, it was a matter of figuring out where he was and where he was going and figuring out the map all at the same time. "You don't have to listen to me," he added quietly, feeling small. That was also not like him. He fidgeted, watching his own long fingers move around his cup in a detached way. "But . . . I'm always happy to listen to you," he promised.

22 Killian Row Very very much. 1450 0 5

Jean Wolfe

August 01, 2020 12:29 AM

So why do it? by Jean Wolfe

His lip was not trembling. It wasn’t. It wasn’t, and his eyes weren’t getting damp and- and to be fair, he was doing a lot better than the first time someone had told him there was nothing wrong with him. When he’d gone to Dorian, let his defenses down low enough to be loved instead of just kissed, and had been forced to half admit to how hard things had been.

You do know, don’t you, that there is nothing wrong with you?

He could still hear Dorian’s voice perfectly. He could remember looking up, asking him to say it again. And it seemed like no time had passed, and also like that moment belonged to another lifetime, where Dorian had been the only one he’d ever expected to have around to say that…

“Thank you,” he managed, in a strangled voice. He searched the ceiling, as if he might find the answer of how to stop his eyes from spilling over up there… It seemed like Killian was politely pretending not to notice this, or was at least trying to steer them back onto safer ground. He was still talking.

“You’re not like them,” Jean-Loup shook his head firmly. He knew there was logic to what Killian was saying. He knew what point he was trying to make. Good and bad in every job, and they were all in the box of people who helped… And when it went wrong, that meant it went very, very wrong. That made more sense but his brain still wasn’t quite willing to bend that far. Killian was in a special, small box of people he trusted. Whatever he said about psychiatrists or psychologists in general and Dr. Greene specifically - it could make all the sense it wanted but Jean-Loup was not ready to let those lines blur, to let things into the little safe space he’d carved out. Killian was allowed because he was different. Anything else would require him to step out and explore and find the whole range of good and bad in the world, and he wasn’t quite prepared to run the risk of getting burnt again by doing that.

“I want to… conversation with you,” Jean-Loup assured him. Killian had used the word ‘listen’ but Jean-Loup wanted to do that and to talk and to have both of them done in return. It felt like he had made Killian sad, and his stomach twisted nervously. “I don’t want to talk to her,” he emphasised. “Professor Skies said it might be need, but I don’t want to. Why do I need? And… and I worry. About the kid.” Killian had mentioned ‘he’ - he seemed to know, but Jean-Loup was still a little uncertain how much he could say. “It… It always make me feel so much more worse. When they make me go talk. Lower and lower… And he already feels so bad,” he said. Maybe it was all different this time. Maybe if you were at rock bottom they could pull you up. Maybe it hadn’t been right for him because he’d never been crazy but Felipe… ‘Crazy’ he knew, was a strong and an unkind word. But what he’d done did not speak of having all your thoughts well-ordered and together. Taking medicine could harm you if you didn’t need it. Was it like that, and was that why it hadn’t worked on him? Or had he just been sent to a bad person, whilst Dr. Greene was a good one? How could they really know?

“What does she get to do, if she decides someone’s crazy? Can she take them away? Or make them do medications and physical treatments? How do you know she’s good?” he asked, his questions coming together in a rush. He put down his coffee because it was in danger of spilling, squeezing his hands together to try to stop them shaking, but this just transferred it to his knee which jiggled up and down as he waited for answers.

13 Jean Wolfe So why do it? 1506 0 5

Killian Row

August 01, 2020 3:06 PM

In the end, it's worth it. by Killian Row

Killian really liked hugs and he really liked giving hugs to people who needed them. He wanted to do just that for Jean-Loup, who was tooootally not crying. But he looked up and away and was trying to pretend that he was actually not crying, and Killian didn't want to interfere. He kept talking, because this was normal and everything was fine.

"Thank you," he said softly, when Jean-Loup said he wasn't like 'them'. He suspected the lad meant 'like psychiatrists' but Killian could take it as 'like terrible humans who made me suffer in the name of healing' so it would be okay. He smiled at the idea of conversation-ing together and nodded.

"I think Selina wants you to talk to Dr. Greene because you witnessed the aftermath of something horrible, and she wants to make sure you're okay. Someone who has training in making sure people are okay can be a good resource for that," he pointed out with a challenging, albeit playful, eyebrow raise. That being said, he could also understand Jean-Loup's concerns for Felipe.

Jean-Loup's question surprised Killian and he realized belatedly that he might have been going about this the wrong way. "No one is crazy," he promised. "That's something that psychiatrists have learned isn't real. Everyone can be helped if they're sick, so if Dr. Greene discovers that someone has a sick brain - by looking at the symptoms, just like you would do for their body - then she can help them get medicine or help them learn to think in new ways so their brain gets healed."

But how did Killian know she was good? Well, he had evidence. "What if we go through it with just questions?" he suggested. "Collect evidence. Look for signs of a good thing happening." Grabbing a piece of paper and quill, he prepared himself to make a simple list with bullet points. He knew from experience that having that concrete evidence to go back to in the face of fear or anxiety was often helpful.

"What do we know? Selina trusts her, and Selina is good at her job. She probably did something like this to hire me, actually," he realized, cocking his head before continuing. "She also cares about us, so asking us to talk with Dr. Greene is probably because she cares and not meant to hurt us," he pointed out. "Dr. Greene has experience working with youth and has not been asked to stop coming back yet, so she's got a good reputation." He made notes as he went, trying to keep them short and simple enough that Jean-Loup could read it later when his nerves made the English go away. "The kid needs help and none of us are really equipped to deal with that, so he needs someone to step in. Some people are bad psychiatrists, so we want to make sure we get a good one in here. What would you need to see to be sure? What kind of evidence?" Flipping the paper over so Jean-Loup could see it, he waited, wanting to make sure he had the time he needed.

22 Killian Row In the end, it's worth it. 1450 0 5

Jean Wolfe

August 01, 2020 10:29 PM

I trust you by Jean Wolfe

CW implied use of conversion therapy

Jean-Loup tried to focus on what Killian was saying. Really focus. Because apparently some of the things Jean-Loup had understood so far were... things he had not understood after all. And he didn't want to push Killian back again. It was hard and complicated and he had known this would happen - once someone was this side of the walls, it hurt to move them back out again. It hurt for both of you, and the brief shut down he'd had already only served to reconfirm that.

It was a little hard to focus on the words when the blood was pumping in your ears so loudly you could hear your own elevated heartbeat though. The shake from his knee was spreading too. He could feel his legs shaking. He wanted to run. If his legs were still, they could betray him like this, but when they were pumping along, hitting the earth steadily and repeatedly it was better. They couldn't do that and shake at the same time. And, when he stopped, if they were still shaking and his heart was still racing, he could tell himself that the run was why.

Most of the words weren't helpful anyway. Reputations could be faked. People could have all the right intentions but do the wrong things. We want to help you. What you're thinking isn't right, but we've found someone. He's very knowledgeable, very experienced. He says he can cure you... And when he hadn't liked it It's for the best. It's for the best. Don't you want to get better?

"They say all this," he murmured, shrinking back as Killian pushed the paper towards him. Questions... What questions to ask?

He stood up, not able to think with the shaking in his legs, wanting to make it go away. He paced the office but now his hands were betraying him too. He thought of all the adventure stories he'd read as a child, where there was some villainous sprite or sphinx trying to lure people into traps. All those quick-witted heroes who thought of the perfect question to foil the evil plots. He had never guessed what they would ask to get themselves out of it. He leant on the back of his own chair, knuckles gripping, arms taught, pushing down firmly against it. He was dressed for running, which meant a tank top and shorts. His height and his strength were fully visible as he leant on the chair. And Killian had seen enough of his grades to know there was a decent amount of fire power there too. And for all his strength and ability, the presence of one little woman inside this building, and the prospect of talking with her, was causing the colour to drain from his face. Because strength was useless when what someone wanted was to peer inside your head and judge what they found inside. Who got to decide what was crazy? Or sick-brained, if that was what they were calling it here? Who got to decide that another person's thoughts and wishes and desires were wrong? That was a dangerous kind of power to give anyone.

He tried to focus on the fact that he trusted Killian. But he had trusted his parents, once upon a time. That was why he had gone to his dad when he was scared and confused... But Killian had always helped him in the right ways. He hadn't ever forced him when he didn't want to.

"Can I be forced to speak with her if I say no?" he asked, "You... You won't let her say I am sick, or send me for more treatments?" he confirmed. Because before they even got to what else he needed to know about her, he needed to know that he was allowed to keep her as far away as he wanted. That someone was standing between him and her and all the damage she could do.

He nodded to the paper, the question sticking like treacle in his dry mouth, and it was the same one that always worried him with new people. Only this one was more frightening because she had so much more power to do things because of it.

"What does she do to people like me?" he asked.

13 Jean Wolfe I trust you 1506 0 5

Killian Row

August 03, 2020 11:06 AM

I trust you, too. by Killian Row

This was . . . going poorly. It was hard and Killian's own emotional state was of little help. He felt wrung out and his mind was flitting from place to place without any real semblance of sense-making as far as he could tell. But there was a young man in front of him who was dealing with life and that's what Killian specialised in. Granted . . . he didn't specialise in exactly this form of doing so, but he could hopefully help some.

As Jean-Loup spoke, though, Killian's mind solidified around one thought: something happened. Killian was no fool and was generally well-aware of the fact that people were often sent to therapy because of their gay-ness, but it wasn't something that came to mind first. It was an uncomfortable conversation and some explaining and feeling belittled, and that was that. But Jean-Loup didn't have any of the signs of someone who had gotten through an uncomfortable situation. He looked like a survivor who wasn't yet sure if the war was done, and if his words were anything to go by (which they were because duh), then he had survived what was tantamount to torture.

"No," Killian promised, knowing that there would be some conversations required if Jean-Loup did decline Dr. Greene's care. That wasn't a helpful thing to point out right now and they could cross the ruins of that bridge when they got there. "And no," he said more firmly. "The only thing she's worried about is making sure you are handling a child's near-suicide alright," he promised. It felt blunt to say it like that, but that was, after all, the point. At the end of the day, that's what all this was about. But it wasn't the end of the day yet, and Jean-Loup had more questions.

Killian took a deep breath. This was not a time to be polite or coy and that was crappy but necessary. "You mean men who like other men," Killian confirmed, only a bit of a question there since he was confident he knew the answer. "If the reports I have heard about Dr. Greene are correct, she would only talk to you about your relationships to make sure that you are happy, safe, and not being mistreated. If you're healthy in that regard - and a loving, consensual relationship can be healthy even if it's between two men - then she wouldn't probably talk to you more about it. You wouldn't have to tell her."

Standing up, Killian crossed the room to stand near the center point of Jean-Loup's pacing, offering a solid anchor to the panic. His eyes were kind as he considered the young man in front of him. Jean-Loup, he decided, had grown up too fast. Killian hated the whole of the society that had brought him up. "You will be absolutely safe, and we can talk to Selina about her meeting with you with someone else present if you would like. At least at first." He glanced down at Jean-Loup's outfit. "If you give me a minute to change, I'll go on a run with you," he said.

22 Killian Row I trust you, too. 1450 0 5

Jean Wolfe

August 03, 2020 7:28 PM

What with? by Jean Wolfe

No and no. Some of the fiercest of the panic receded. Maybe some of what he had asked had not made sense, not a lot of sense in the context of what they were talking about. He knew that Dr. Greene was here to deal with something else but the thought of her crawled underneath his skin. It wasn’t just what she was here to do right now but what she had the power to do under different circumstances.

He had stopped pacing whilst he pressed his arms against the chair, and Killian had now cut across that space. He was boxed in. It should have felt wrong. You kept moving on the field. You didn’t let people force you into a corner. It was strange how this felt so much more like being kept safe than being trapped. He had the weirdest impulse to just throw himself on Killian for a hug but… but that was weird, right? Dorian was a hugger, not just with Jean-Loup but with everyone. But then his friends were Tatya and Professor Brooding-Hawthorne and it wasn’t like there was a danger of that being misconstrued. Did Dorian hug Vlad too? He thought so, though he saw the two of them together much less than he saw Dorian with Tatya. It would be different if he hugged Killian, maybe. It would probably be weird. It wasn’t something he should want as much as he did.

“Thank you,” he mumbled instead, trying not to choke up, “You keep protecting me,” he added in lieu of any more demonstrative show of affection, although it didn’t really lessen his desire to lean on Killian at all.

The answer to what she thought of men who liked other men was not simple or straightforward. It seemed to depend on what she found when she picked it apart and examined it.

“It’s none of her business,” he stated bluntly. “I know it is not why she is here right now,” he added. This was not about him, and was not going to be about his personal life. And he knew he had led the conversation in that direction a little, with the need for Killian to promise she couldn’t start poking her nose into his business and telling them all there was something wrong with him, but this was his boggart, right here, right now, lurking in the place he was supposed to go to work. If they decided you were crazy, they could say you couldn’t choose for yourself. They’d never taken it that far with him, but he knew that possibility existed. Your right to regard yourself as a legal, independent adult, capable of making your own decisions - someone could just say your thoughts were so wrong that you had forfeited that right. And that was terrifying. You were supposed to laugh in the face of a boggart, but nothing was funny. Also this was real. Apparently they were using rational thought against it instead, which was something that was just as hard to do when you were frightened. He wasn’t sure whether he wasn’t making sense, or English wasn’t making sense, or both, but the fact that she wasn’t going to do that right now wasn’t enough. “But… she would do that? Different circumstance, she is called in for that, she will behave the same way? Then -” he swore in French, trying to find the right words to vent his frustration, “If she does this, with people like me, I don’t want to discussing even the weather with her, and will not believe she can do anything good.”

Running? He blinked at the sudden change of subject. But he supposed what he was wearing was a clue. As was the fact that he could barely keep still.

"You run?" he stated, surprised. "And you will run with me?"

He nodded vaguely to show that sounded good, even if he couldn't quite make sense of it right now. Perhaps then it was just easier to accept it.. He allowed himself to flop back down in his vacated chair. Some of the blood he’d felt pounding in his ears was receding. He already felt a little bit like he had been running. Or rather, like this time he’d poured the adrenaline from his fight or flight response into the former instead of the latter. A gentle run could still be nice though. To fully calm down. Not to get away from anything but to just… be. He liked running. It was his happy place.

13 Jean Wolfe What with? 1506 0 5

Killian Row

August 04, 2020 9:54 PM

With yourself. And with me, I think. by Killian Row

Killian's eyes smushed happily at Jean-Loup's comment about him protecting him. It was the same face cats make when they love you. For a moment, he thought about putting his hand on Jean-Loup's shoulder, or grasping his forearm. He was an affectionate person by nature, but also Consent. "I do my best," he smiled softly.

He nodded, following Jean-Loup's out-loud processing until the intern asked whether Dr. Greene might normally deem him crazy if she were here for him. "No no, definitely not," he promised. He had a momentary thought of having Jean-Loup sit in on whatever session Killian himself would have with Dr. Greene and then intentionally bring up relationship things for Dr. Greene to weigh in on - or hopefully not weigh in on - but he wasn't sure he did actually want to discuss his relationship woes in front of Jean-Loup. Good lord, the thought alone was nearly enough to make him blush. "She wouldn't do that with anyone," he promised.

"Yeah," Killian said, scratching the back of his head and feeling a bit shy all of a sudden on the topic of running. "I'm definitely not as in shape as you are," he warned, only barely managing to keep himself from doing an appreciative once over. That was . . . odd. And not appropriate. Was it not appropriate because Jean-Loup was an intern? Or a kid? He wasn't really a kid. But he wasn't single either. Perhaps he'd feel better if he just went to a bigger city one weekend and found someone - or someones - too . . . spend time with. That would be a good way to clear his head, for sure. "But I run," he said, returning to the subject at hand, "and it would be nice to run with you if you want."

22 Killian Row With yourself. And with me, I think. 1450 0 5

Jean Wolfe

August 05, 2020 7:44 AM

I will try not to break you, you are precious by Jean Wolfe

CW - toxic masculinity/homophobia

"Your best is good. Very good," he assured Killian warmly. He was pretty sure that, somewhere along the line, his parents had believed they were doing their best to help. Or his father had, at least. Their best had been a disaster. Killian's best involved a lot more discussion, a lot more listening and a lot more control for Jean-Loup. Admittedly, Jean-Loup was coming to him as a firmly opinionated sort-of-adult not a frightened twelve year old but he was pretty sure Killian's best would have been better than his dad's even back then. The way Killian was looking at him was... he wasn't sure what to call it. It felt...affectionate, but he wasn't sure that was an appropriate word to use. Of course, there were different types. Parents could be fond and affectionate. Jean-Loup regarded Dorian affectionately and sometimes it was just that - affection, finding him cute and sweet and vulnerable, and wanting to protect him. Admittedly that gave way pretty often to how dragging him upstairs, locking the door and bundling him under the blankets sounded like a very, very good way to keep him safe, but he thought they were still separate distinct feelings. But maybe neither of them should have been crossing his mind right now and about Killian. It definitely made him want to hug Killian even more, and the main person he hugged was Dorian, which brought it back around to confusing. Could two guys who were into guys hug without it being sexual? But equally, it also kind of reminded him of how Choux looked when she had a letter she knew he'd been waiting for. In conclusion, feelings were weird.

"Okay," he nodded, when Killian explained about Dr. Greene. "Not 'okay' like... I definitely go talk to her. But 'okay' like... I understand you. I believe you. I let it," he mimed the information sinking into his head. He knew the end goal of the information was to make him agree to seeing her but he needed to process that idea first. That it was not all psychologists who would think and behave that way. That this was maybe one who was good and safe... He did not yet have any real reason to trust her but he had the option of sitting in a room with her and Killian. And it was an option. He was allowed to say no to that. He was allowed to choose. That made it easier to accept that it might actually be a thing he did by the end of the day. Not a thing he was thrilled about but a thing that was a lot more possible than it had been before.

And right now, he could run.

“You hide muscles under there?” he teased playfully, eyes skimming Killian’s torso. He wasn’t built like a Beater, although Jean-Loup was well-aware how much a long-sleeved shirt or set of robes could do to hide muscle. But most people on a team were pretty toned even if they weren’t buff. Killian was a little tall to be a Seeker, though skinniness with reach wasn’t to be underestimated- not that he’d said he played, just Jean-Loup’s default was to appraise people in terms of Quidditch. He was sliding easily back into that role, considering Killian the way Dorian would a piece of translation or Tatya would a piece of jewellery. This was a thing he was good at assessing. “If not, we go get you some,” he assured Killian with an easy grin, not wanting him to feel self-conscious.

He also felt a little bit buoyed by the compliment. It was a phrase he knew both from his work on health and exercise but also cos it was fairly similar to French. He always wanted to say ‘in form’ which was the false friend tripping him up but he recognised it when the right phrase was used. His body was something he had a pretty uncomplicated relationship with. Okay, it had gone through all the typical teenage unpredictabilities of his voice becoming a traitor, and his hormones choosing the literal worst times to make him start thinking with something other than his brain. But… well, his voice had steadied out pretty quickly… Aside from that though, it was easy. Do the right things - give it the right fuel, work a routine, and it behaved. It was within his control to get tangible, concrete results. He liked how simple and straightforward it was.

It had always been a good way to get other people’s approval too. Both in terms of his athleticism (which was what Killian was complimenting him on… right?) and his looks. He’d never particularly exercised to try to be more attractive, he exercised because he liked it. The fact that it did good things to his physique was a happy side-effect. And that other people liked how he looked too. That was a touch inconvenient when it was girls noticing him, but he was pretty sure that most guys who were his way inclined would also want someone good looking, so that was less problematic than being ugly. If he only looked skin-deep at himself, he could be consistently pretty pleased with what he found.

“Yes. I want,” he agreed eagerly to the prospect of a run. He had wanted to go running straight away when he was sent away from the hospital wing. He only had not because he thought that something bad might be going on. Not that Felipe’s situation was the same as his, but someone he hadn’t been able to trust was near to someone he thought was vulnerable, and who he felt responsible for. He had needed to fix it. He still wanted to keep Dr. Greene at arm’s length but the worry that there was a problem right now was fading. The after effects of his emotions swirled in his head and his stomach. He was still feeling wrung out, still feeling complex things regarding Dr. Greene. He trusted Killian. That was the place where he was allowing his mind to stop right now. It could not quite do the one eighty required to place Dr. Greene into the ‘non-threat’ box but it could trust that Killian was going to keep him safe. There was the tiredness and the feeling of having scratched at wounds that were a long way from healed. Those were not good feelings but they were the kind that running made better. It was perfect like that. When you were nervous and jangled it let your thoughts fall back into neat and steady order. When you were tired and drained it buoyed you up again. Running for him was like tea was for Dorian - whatever your ill, it balanced it all back out.

Even just the possibility of going for a run was helping. Whilst Killian changed, Jean-Loup felt some of the tension easing out of his shoulders. He could already anticipate his feat pounding against the path. He could anticipate feeling better.

"Not bad," he noted, giving Killian a quick once over when he emerged. This kind of comment for him belonged very much to the complex, borderline weird but absolutely 'no homo' rules which governed sports stuff with other guys. Guys in a locker room talked about everything. Well, mostly their junk, each other’s junk, the rival team’s junk - it was basically a never ending conversation about everyone else’s body and the one clear rule was that none of that was at all gay. You were gay if you didn’t join in - it was more gay to not join in with strutting around with a bunch of other shirtless dudes than it was to towel whip another guy.

Admittedly, for him, there always had been quite a large degree of homo involved. Not in his interactions - he thanked his lucky stars he had never crushed on any of his team-mates, that he was pretty sure being treated mean was not amongst his turn ons, and that he had managed to play along just enough to be in a safe middle ground where he passed, and where he didn’t feel like he was being actively mean or creepy.

“And now we run?” he asked. He was trying not to grin because he was aware that today was not a good day, and it was possibly inappropriate, but it was evident that he was already feeling considerably better for being reimmersed in a space that was absolutely and totally his comfort zone.

“What’s your workout routine?” he asked, as they made their way out.

13 Jean Wolfe I will try not to break you, you are precious 1506 0 5

Killian Row

August 06, 2020 12:10 PM

Like an ugly old beetle. by Killian Row

Jean-Loup was going to consider. Jean-Loup was going to be okay. Killian had done an alright job of this whole thing, even after being sure he would not be able to at all. He'd been convinced that he was going to screw everything up because he'd been so wrapped up in his own head. As it turned out, talking things through with Jean-Loup had been rather cathartic and he found that he was feeling better himself.

"I hide bread mostly," Killian replied, patting his belly happily. He tried to stifle a smirk at Jean-Loup's promise that they'd go get his muscles. "I like scavenger hunts," he said jokingly. "Are my muscles hiding out in the Gardens?" He laughed at Jean-Loup's eager expression of wanting to run before excusing himself to change.

Killian raised an eyebrow at Jean-Loup's compliment, surprised by the straightforwardness of it. It wasn't said in a way that made him uncomfortable, but he also wasn't quite sure how to take it. He'd never really spent much time around men who complimented other men unless they were trying to lead somewhere, not having played sports much. "Thanks," he said, amused. He wasn't even really sure whether it was a compliment on his clothes or his figure, nor which one he hoped it was. It would be nice to be complimented on his figure and feel good about that, but he didn't want to push that either. Bad as he wanted compliments, he didn't necessarily want them from the intern. Still, he chocked it up to Jean-Loup's athletics background and nodded at the question.

"Now we run," he agreed. He laughed again, heartily, with all a sense of surprise, at the question about his routine though. "How many calories do you burn kneading bread dough?" he asked.

22 Killian Row Like an ugly old beetle. 1450 0 5