[Jesus, finally. Do you know how awkward it is to hug some asshole who's just standing there like a dead fish? Really fucking awkward. Like at least a 9.2/10 on the awkwardness scale. Now it's more like a 3.7/10, and that's mainly because Julian is a maladjusted, touch-starved, sorry sack of shit, and Quentin is... well, Quentin.
Also Julian's TK still buzzes in his ears like a fluorescent light bulb every time those prosthetic hands get near him, but whatever. He'll deal.]
Mm. Weird way of saying "thanks," but sure. You're welcome, buddy.
[So in other words, no worries about your dirty little secret, Julian. Really, though, who would Quentin even tell? And even if he did, he's pretty sure most people around would be more surprised about Quentin's side of this than Julian's. Every mutant he's encountered or sensed thus far either doesn't know him at all or knew him at his worst. Quentin Quire? Being supportive? Empathetic? Nice? Sounds fake.
And that? Is why this is important. He wasn't bullshitting when he said he was trying to be better. He is. Trying, at least. Succeeding? Ehhh. That whole "surrounded by people who knew him at his worst" thing has led to some... set-backs, shall we say. Some bad habits rearing their ugly heads, perhaps. Look. Progress is a journey, okay? The point is he's resilient, he's got a lot of gumption, and with his mutation he's more equipped to sponge other people's trauma than most. Quentin doesn't need much. You know, a smack in the head when he's being particularly imbecilic. A job to do to keep himself busy. Basic personal freedoms. External validation to fill the void of self-loathing in his black little heart. Snacks. The usual stuff. What Julian needs, on the other hand, is a damn friend who won't crumble into a million tiny pieces over every crisis.
That said, now that Julian's cooperating, Quentin settles his chin on his shoulder and reaches out telepathically.]
/Don't freak out, I'm just eavesdropping a little. It's easier. Hide whatever you want, I don't care, but I'm, you know. Here./
no subject
Also Julian's TK still buzzes in his ears like a fluorescent light bulb every time those prosthetic hands get near him, but whatever. He'll deal.]
Mm. Weird way of saying "thanks," but sure. You're welcome, buddy.
[So in other words, no worries about your dirty little secret, Julian. Really, though, who would Quentin even tell? And even if he did, he's pretty sure most people around would be more surprised about Quentin's side of this than Julian's. Every mutant he's encountered or sensed thus far either doesn't know him at all or knew him at his worst. Quentin Quire? Being supportive? Empathetic? Nice? Sounds fake.
And that? Is why this is important. He wasn't bullshitting when he said he was trying to be better. He is. Trying, at least. Succeeding? Ehhh. That whole "surrounded by people who knew him at his worst" thing has led to some... set-backs, shall we say. Some bad habits rearing their ugly heads, perhaps. Look. Progress is a journey, okay? The point is he's resilient, he's got a lot of gumption, and with his mutation he's more equipped to sponge other people's trauma than most. Quentin doesn't need much. You know, a smack in the head when he's being particularly imbecilic. A job to do to keep himself busy. Basic personal freedoms. External validation to fill the void of self-loathing in his black little heart. Snacks. The usual stuff. What Julian needs, on the other hand, is a damn friend who won't crumble into a million tiny pieces over every crisis.
That said, now that Julian's cooperating, Quentin settles his chin on his shoulder and reaches out telepathically.]
/Don't freak out, I'm just eavesdropping a little. It's easier. Hide whatever you want, I don't care, but I'm, you know. Here./