Who Jules and Jeremie When After Jules gets home from his unexplained night out What Jules had gone out pole dancing and drinking like the old days without Jeremie and the conversation that happened when he got home minus his vest Where The Charbonneau living room Warnings going into smexy mode Status In Progresso still
Jeremie: Jeremie Charbonneau was a much different animal in comparison to his free-wheeling husband. Earlier in the evening, some time just after Jules had left, he'd come in and left his soft, old leather boots in a heap by the door. His sock-lined feet skimmed over the floor as he passed through, raising his arms high in a stretch. As it has always been since he had been turned ages ago, he never made a sound as he walked unless he did it on purpose. He could already feel just by listening to the sounds of the empty belly of the house that Jules wasn't in it. There was a distinct difference when he was – the place was warm; his smell was thick and sweet on the refined senses of the ex-vampire, something that filled his mouth like honey; his pulse hummed like the most beautiful music. Jeremie never needed any other sort of pollution to feel fulfilled, be it from radios, the tv, perfumes, glitter... anything. It was something he had always had difficulty conveying to Jules, who loved the brilliance of high levels of stimulation. Maybe because he was not the most stellar at expressing himself, and if he had been he might have found a sympathetic audience. He loved the quiet because, when he was tuned just right, he could smell all the rich layers off of Jules, skin and soap and detergent and car smoke and the places he had been, could see every speck of color in his eyes more beautifully in any glitter or stone.
It left impressions of him to be someone who appreciated peace, meditation. It allowed him to focus his mind on each thought, touch it gently, and then let it drift away. When he hit the kitchen and listened, hearing nothing but the electrical hum of the wires and guts of the plumbing churning, he wasn't at all worried. It wasn't desperately uncommon for Jules to go somewhere at any hour, and so Jeremie turned off and looked toward the fridge for something to drink. There was the little note on the fridge, and he paused to squint at it a moment. No, still not surprising. The smiley face didn't go unnoticed. Jeremie thought it was a bit odd that Jules would decide to suddenly tease him all the time about vampire teeth and capes and things. It was uncomfortable, but he tolerated it quietly, thinking it was nothing but the usual curiosity on Jules' part. He liked to make light of things, especially things Jeremie had the sneaking suspicion were uncomfortable for him. That's how he always knew something was important. It would become a joke, and then an obsession, and they'd have that sort of Talk eventually. Until that moment came, Jeremie would just ride it out.
For now, he was going to take this carton of milk out and totally drink from it. Nobody was at home to scold him, so he upended it into his mouth, chugged about a fifth of it, and then put it back. God, but real food was so good. Taste was the newest of sharp sensations for him to explore, and everything he put in his mouth at first figuratively exploded on impact. Food, God, food. Fantastic. Wiping his mouth on the back of his sleeve, he went hunting for more and started to put a pile together on a paper plate of various leftovers and snacks.
Hours later he was asleep in front of the tv, which had been on a rerun of Bones, the paper plate emptied and upended over his belly. He had his head thrown back and his mouth wide open, snoring. His chest slowly rose and fell under the soft, worn cotton of his t-shirt. His toe wiggled periodically through a hole in his sock he had not noticed. He only woke when something stung his nose and he instinctively wrinkled it. What was that smell...? It made him rouse very slowly, eyes still most of the way closed as he shifted.
Jules: Jules apparently had walked right passed Jeremie on the couch over to the stereo and decided he wasn't ready to settle down yet and intended to dance about in the living room to wind himself out before he hit the hay. On boomed Last Resort and he pivoted on his heels with the jerk of his head to the first beat of the song. Oh gawd Jules someone was sleeping just behind you! Not just someone but sensitive to sound Jeremie. He saw Jeremie rousing though and dance jumped his way over there and kissed the top of his head grabbing the plate off his belly before bounding off in another direction to toss the paper plate in garbage. The boy was still head banging around with no explanation, singing, "It all started when I lost my mother, No love for myself and no love for another, searching to find a love upon a higher level, finding nothing but questions and devils" - Yep. Jules was gone man. Up in his head in his own little world. He even started to talk excitedly after that. "Everybody at that club loved me, baby. You should have seen it. The owner even wants to hire me." He was talking as he bopped around like there was no concern in the world to be cared about.
Jeremie: Now it wasn't just the smell of what he could finally identify through his sleepy haze as a heavy douse of tequila, but a wave of sound coming at him, Jeremie started to jump a bit more quickly. He scrambled around, surprised that his plate had randomly disappeared (he thought he had left a grape or two, but apparently not), bags under his eyes as they tried to rouse. "Shit, Jules!" he grumbled in a bearlike voice. One hand came up to cover one ear, the other was still trying to lift his tired body off the couch.
He eventually managed to push himself up and started to stumble toward the stereo, as determined as a man who was walking through a wind tunnel. While Jules was busy headbanging, Jeremie pawed at the stereo's dials and finally hit the "mute" button. Now he could finally concentrate on what Jules was saying. What was the matter with him?? Half-dressed, shining with glitter and sweat, stinking of an entire bar and everything that came with it.
Smacking a hand to his forehead and letting it run across, Jeremie asked, "What the crap, Jules? We have neighbors. It's -" a quick glance at the cable box. "It's 5 am. Where have you been?" The last was not said with any real concern, just a lot of curiosity. It seemed like an age away when Jules had actually done anything dangerous or painful. For the most part, Jeremie trusted him, even if he had not always acted in a trustworthy manner.
Jules: Jules' face pulled down into a frown when the music was muted looking all of disappointed. Figured. Jeremie was always closing off his fun. He was used to it. He rolled with it, for the time being. "The neighbors aren't in the house. It wasn't that loud. Exaggerator." He retorted back but not with any real bite or snipe in his tone. Then he just shrugged a shoulder. "Yeah I saw that on the clock." He answered confirming he knew. "Just at some club. Cabaret I mean. I was fantastic. Just like the old days. They even had a hoop there baby!" His voice went a little excited shrill on that one. "Just like the one you made me." He grinned teetering his slightly off kilter tipsy walk in front of Jeremie pecked his cheek and then his more femme walk took it's shifting hips over to the couch and plopped down on it, stretching himself out across it. "I think I lost my vest though." He said matter of factly.
Jeremie: Jeremie wasn't trying to close off anyone's fun per se, it was that he could not think worth anything with that going on. While Jules taunted him, Jeremie pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose and then shook his head. It was happening, gradually. He was maybe 75% awake at this point. He swayed gently with the kiss to his cheek, turning his face away from the ick tequila smell but not wanting to reject a kiss.
Before he followed Jules over, Jeremie sort of watched him go, assessing the clothing situation. "I had hoped you'd intended to go out wearing more than that," he confessed. Even though he looked absolutely drop-dead, breathtakingly gorgeous, letting other people see that much skin planted tiny seeds of jealousy.
Now Jeremie did follow him over, sitting on the edge of the couch beside him. He rested his hand on Jules' knee. "What made you want to do that? Go to some random club. You stayed out all night." 'Without me' was the implied tone. It wasn't so much unusual that Jules would want to go somewhere special, but to go without Jeremie or even to say so was a little more... he didn't know yet.
Jules: "I did. I had a vest." He defended a little confused but shook it off. "Because I never do anymore. I needed to have some fun or something. I needed the stage." He explained. "I don't know. I just wanted to. So I did." Jules mind and voice was started to slow, his volume lowering as he came to rest on the couch. Even Jeremie's touch to his leg seemed to have that effect. He didn't seeme to be going into any analytical reasons behind his actions though, as he seemed to believe Jeremie wanted. He leaned sideways into the arm of the couch, lengthwise, and then flipped his still boot covered feet up onto Jeremie's lap as he started to pet at his own chest idly, looking across to the saint's eyes. "They said I'm welcome there whenever I want. I gave everyone a necklace. It made them feel special. They had high ceilings so I got to do one of my old real routines I havent' been able to do on the short poles ya know?" Jules just kept going on like it was no big deal.
Jeremie: Jeremie listened silently, but his eyes crept away as Jules' legs dropped into his lap. He looked down at them for a moment, breathing in and out before he moved. It seemed like a good idea to busy himself with doing something, just to focus himself on some sort of movement, and so he slowly pulled out the laces of one boot and slid it off of Jules' foot. The other followed, he propped up the bare feet in his lap while matching each of his fingertips to a toe and running his hand up, over each delicate toe joint. Even his feet were pretty to Jeremie, with their perfect arches and their painted nails.
The movement, however kind, was keeping him from processing whatever it was he was feeling. He wasn't sure why, but something about Jules not even saying that he was going made him feel... bad. Some form of "bad".
"That's good, I guess," he sighed. His voice was low. He was sweeping his thumb over the tender center of one foot. "I would have liked to see you. I'm sure you were perfect."
Jules: Mmmm. Jeremie playing with his feet was soothing, made Jules feel right at home like nothing was wrong and everything was normal. He felt something in Jeremie's sigh though and it was pulling Jules back into his regular head space, but he was still trying to ignore it, not wanting anything to be wrong. "Yeah, the crowd was really pumping. I might go back. I made a lot of friends." He said softer still as he sat up and tucked up against Jeremie's arm, leaning his head on his shoulder. His breathing was slowing too. That wearing off alcohol crash was coming. "You should come next time." He suggested kissing the spot on his shoulder where his head rested.
Jeremie: Jeremie moved up from Jules' feet and onto his legs, following the slender outline of his calves in the tight denim. As Jules came closer, Jeremie pulled more of him into his lap until he could easily accommodate Jules leaning against his shoulder. The smell of the alcohol was still smacking him in the face, but he had ways of blocking it from his mind so that he could move on. He had almost forgotten that Jules could be such a heavy drinker. It reminded him of the night Jules had screwed himself up on drugs and Jeremie had taken care of him. As the ease of the crash settled into Jules' voice, Jeremie supported him a little more with an arm around his back, never missing a beat. No matter what he felt like, he could always be counted on for that. His arm was a cradle holding Jules to his chest. Finally, he leaned down and dropped a kiss onto his husband's warm forehead.
"How come you didn't tell me you wanted to do that?" he whispered. "I wouldn't have minded going along. Were you scared of something?"
Jules: "I don't know. I didn't think I wanted to until I did." He explained terribly. "It just came to me when I was dancing in the bedroom. You weren't home anyway. I needed to go right then." But, Jeremie's whispering made everything feel far more intimate and safe and Jules never was able to keep much from his husband from the very start. "I don't know. I just... didn't want you to tell me no. Or...or... something. Or make me ... feel I couldn't do it my way." ohhhhhhh, there it was. A little bit of hidden truth trying to come out.
Jeremie: Jeremie frowned in concentration into Jules's hair. There was a heavier air about him, having the distinct intuition that this was all a much bigger deal than Jules was making it out to be. He understood that Jules had whims but this one had something driving it. It wasn't completely clear until the last point, but for the longest time Jeremie had nothing much to say. He just wanted to go over the side of Jules's face with his fingertips, loosening the moisture and glitter from his hair as they combed through. There was smoke in his hair, and it reminded Jeremie even more of the times he used to hold him as a demon, all of his sadness mixing with the twinge of brimstone.
After all of that, Jeremie had no other answer to Jules's explanation but to take him by the chin and tilt his eyes up to his. "I love you," he said at last. These were always the moments, staring into that perfect face, as if molded by God's own hands, that he felt his heart could tremble even when it had been dead. Now it certainly wasn't, and it was perfectly free to skip as it liked. No matter what Jules did, there would always be this for him, this sort of passion that brought the knight to fall to his knees before his princess. He couldn't always say he understood, but that was part of the allure, to watch Jules working like magic, like he held within his hands the secret of the universe; as if there were threads of ancient wisdom in the swaying of his hips. Jeremie was only human, and so very human at that, with such things far beyond him, but to imagine a taste...
Jules: Jules never wanted to make Jeremie feel bad. Jeremie might have thought of Jules like princess but Jules held Jeremie on a high pedestal. He used to try to knock him off it on purpose, refusing to think someone else could know better than Jules himself did, but he'd come to a point he couldn't do it anymore. After Jeremie saved him (that's Jules version of things) and Jeremie's vampire soul was still in jeopardy never knowing if they'd truly end up with an after life together or not, Jules began to submit...to everything. Jules' entire was world was devoted to making Jeremie a happy life with their children. Even in the middle of that devotion, Jeremie still found ways to call Jules selfish or always thinking of himself. This would whittle Jules down further. He never wanted to set a foot out of place for fear Jeremie have one more depressed moment than his already brooding vampiric soul had. It killed Jules inside to think he could cause that. But, it was possibly true, that in those years, like the mark of a true loving parent, sacrificing for their children, and in Jules' case devoted husband, sacrificed himself to a point he lost his own identity and it took a long time for him to figure out that this identity had nothing to do with whether he was an demon or an angel. It came from something a little more unique than that. It came from the special spark that makes everyone an individual and no race or creed could define that. Jeremie was right. Jules was keeping the situation on the down low. He didn't want it to be a big deal. In Jules' mind it shouldn't be. But, really he knew better and when Jeremie said he loved him in that tender way that only his voice, his touch could make Jules feel, like someone precious, the muscles in his face quivered in that, 'I'm not gonna cry' twitch. It could be seen when he spoke the three words back, "I love you too" He cracked a broken smile. "Are you mad?" Jules asked next for the first time, his way of possibly admitting maybe he could have handled letting him know he was leaving better. Letting him know where he was. Letting him know anything at all. "I had fun." He added in right at the end as if this might be some valuable piece of information that would make or break whether Jeremie was upset or not, as if this made up for everything, if there was anything to apologise for.
Jeremie: Was he mad? Could he be mad? "...no," he said, and as he answered he slowly started to rock Jules back and forth. As the strings of all the past conversations they had had about Jules's burgeoning identity clarified in his tired mind, he couldn't be. So Jules had taken off and hadn't told him where he had been or what he was doing... but maybe what he was saying is that he needed to not tell him. Jeremie recognized too that he had "saved" Jules from a life of pain, wiped it away and replaced it with love, but in all the years of running from that pain he had put more energy into protecting what he had left than he did helping him grow anything fresh and new. They were safe now, but still they lived encapsuled in this little bubble of their own privacy. He wanted to love more about Jules than that he was always at home and available and making his life perfect. It had never seemed really natural to him. He had always loved Jules best when he was high on the ethers. Part of him wanted to inhale some of it, to see what he could bring inside of his own shell. Sometimes, like on that night, it felt thick and empty. His own life had been stark – born in poverty, living in nothing but war after war, only to sacrifice his very life over and over for the sake of those whose lives he watched like some sort of immortal voyeur. To watch was who he was, frozen in the ice of many centuries.
If nothing else, it let him to kiss his husband's inky hair again, and he really did treat it as though it was something precious. Before he had his own, this treasure of his represented the beating, live heart he did not have. "I'm glad you had fun."
Jules: And that was all it took for Jules. He heard Jeremie wasn't mad. To Jules all the talk wasn't needed. They'd come so far in knowing each other sometimes words weren't useful as they seemed and sometimes could make things worse. Jules felt like they just simply understood one another right then. He heard him say he was glad he had fun and Jules giggled underneath the rocking cradle of his husband's strong and loving arms. That giggle was followed by the gaze of his azure eyes meeting Jeremie's as he rose his head. He had that look again. The something's coming look, a sparkle of ambitious shine in his eyes. And he made a very sudden move to jump fully onto Jeremie's lap, astride him, and he adjusted his wide spread legs to teasingly grind shared private territory together. He curled his arms in on themselves like he was going to nestle up for a nap, but instead gripped tight wads of Jeremie's shirt in his two fists, as he nipped at the sides of Jeremie's neck and whispered, "Do you have any idea how many people I just met are probably wishing they were in your shoes right now?" Jules hips kept rocking. And yes, Jules still seemed to get off on knowing people wanted him and couldn't have him. Call him a tease? Call him what have you. Maybe this was a part of Jules that would never go away, but there it was.
Jeremie: If Jeremie wasn't fully awake before, he was definitely awake now. There was something of a muffled "whoa!" as Jules swung around and sat on him, and then he inhaled through his teeth when Jules rubbed up against him. He was feeling rather poorly-equipped for this, being in plain clothes and having a rather full belly, making his movements as he tried to sit up better and get a grip on the action a little cumbersome. The couch's soft cushions kept giving way under him so that it was impossible to do much of anything after all except for sink back and enjoy. Far be it from him to ever deny Jules this type of attention. Jeremie gave off a slightly doped-looking boyish grin and managed to clap his hands onto Jules's rear. One hand pulled back enough to give him a firm pat, the kind he knew he liked.
"I definitely have an idea," he agreed, his tongue brushing over the edge of his lips thirstily. He jerked forward when Jules pulled on his shirt, suddenly back within a breath's distance of his hot, glittery skin. The knowledge Jules was point out got to him too, and in an obvious way. With every swish of Jules's hips, there was definitely something hard cropping up beneath him. Jeremie's hands squeezed and kneaded his ass a little more firmly. When his neck was nipped, he returned it by breathing softly into Jules's ear, "I can always see when you dance that everyone's eyes are on you, but you're such a good boy. Aren't you, Jules? You work up all this sexy energy, but you bring it home to me. I'm glad you decided not to waste it on the radio, since I'm always ready for you." Another sharp tap on the ass, but this was approaching the border of a slap rather than a pat. He just liked the way Jules's flesh gave under his palm, just enough but not too much. To soften it, Jeremie smiled playfully and kissed his cheek, inviting him to go on with what he had been scheming.
Jules: Jules really could have cared less about Jeremie's clothes. Hell, he wanted them off. But, the other truth was Jules always found Jeremie's casual-man appearance something of a turn on. It always amazed him how he seemed so clueless of his own good looks. That was part of Jeremie's charm and Jules liked to lick it slow to remind him what his body is worth. He was especially attracted to the little belly Jeremie was growing, something about seeing that man eat after all the years of not being able to share dinners together. Jules always was self indulgent and he didn't like he couldn't share every kind of delight with partner.
Jeremie may have been looking dopey, that flirtatious charm of his he always had, but Jules' expression grew darker, his grind harder, that last slap something that just didn't sting long enough. His twisted fists buried in the saint's shirt tugged up, one hand released and pulled the edge from the bottom by his waist, yanking it up enough to reveal Jeremie's bare chest. Jules flattened his own chest against him, the cold bar-bells embedded in his nipples making crisp contact, then warming up with the trapped body heat between them. "Mmmhmmm" Jules spoke as he gnawed the path of Jeremie's collar and up his neckline to his ear and well into the hairline behind it only to reverse, "I'm a little tired of bringing it home." There was a tease in his tone. His eyes even flashed a batted lash of daring stare, "Sometimes I'm ready when I'm not home and coming home is such a bother" he smirked as he lapped a new path around the other side. "I think I'm going to give you a new secret message, like a code. J.I.R. Jules is Ready. Think you can keep up when the calls come in?" Then he leaned over to the side table grabbing his cell phone only to text Jeremie's phone those three letters. "JIR" Then he hunkered down, slipped right off Jeremie's lap, kissed his belly once on the way down, then took a big mouthful of Jeremie's cock right through the fabric of his pants and squeezed with a faint growl before backing up and running off to the back door through the kitchen and calling back, "God it's a shame Jules' isn't home. He's ready right now. Whatever will the neighbors think?" There was a giggle to be heard as he padded his way out to their back door to what little yard they had. Jules was daring Jeremie to come do him right outside.