Homeward Bound (Josh)

[Joshua Bernstein]

A process. Those had to be two of the most beautiful words in the English language. Hope! Hope for the end of a monopoly within his lifetime loomed on the horizon. He was almost sure he heard a choir of angels as Sean spoke those words, despite the grim tone they were said in, because there was a process.

But instead of giving voice to any of those thoughts, not because he was afraid to tell Sean these things (though he tried to be more polite about their disagreement) but because now wasn't the appropriate time to start celebrating the crumbling control of the other man's employer over the lives of meta children everywhere.

Well, not quite everywhere, but he had heard of enough overseas trips from Riley, back when he'd been dating Stephen, and he'd heard stories from Sean on occasion as well, to know that Hammel jurisdiction stretched to other countries.

As far as exes, he was fairly certain none of his wanted to talk to him anymore than he wanted to talk to them. Bekah, perhaps; he hadn't been the best boyfriend to her, but they hadn't parted on terrible terms. He'd not spoken to her in ages, however, not since his mother had harangued her for dating another woman, and he wasn't sure how to get back in touch, or if it would really be worth the effort.

He resumed placing books on the shelf, lips quirking into a smile at Sean's offer. "I think a road trip to Burlington would be most excellent. We can stop by to see my parents and then browse the bookstore." At some point he would have to explain to his mother that he and Sean were living together, because she had been known to come and visit on her own, and thus far nobody had taken away her keys or her license, although she was a danger to everyone else on the road. Or beside it.

At least he could explain roommates easily, and she liked Sean and she was blind to the fact that he was homosexual, so she probably wouldn't jump to the correct conclusion and he could continue not being out to her.

"Although we can look on the internet some evening if you want, we don't have to limit ourselves to one option."

The smile fell as the telepath explained what had happened during his lecture. The story was vague, but the expression on the other man's face was stormy enough for Josh to realize that pushing was probably not the best idea, regardless of the fact that his curiosity had been piqued due to lack of details. His mind was coming up with all sorts of scenarios, from someone sucking everyone's clothes into another dimension to exposing links of the websites people visited.

"I'm sorry." He said, and he genuinely meant it. He hated for Sean to deal with unruly teenagers, and was impressed by the amount of patience he had. "Humiliating other people is unforgivable."

His entire belief system was posited on respect for others (not that he always succeeded in living up to his ideals), which made deliberate humiliation one of the absolute worst actions possible.

"Would you look at that," He added as yet another stack of books was successfully added to Sean's shelf, "I only have one more stack to go."

He glanced toward the bed and the clothes, "How are you holding up? Need help?"

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Sean wasn't going to get into a debate about Hammel when he and Josh were supposed to be moving and enjoying a joyous day, so he didn't respond to the other man's thoughts, also because of the politeness that Josh showed him. Still, he would reassure him later that Hammel wasn't the hydra to be slayed, and that their jurisdiction and programs were as solid as ever. This was...this was a matter he would have to continue to discuss with other administration.

The thought of quietly joining Josh’s parents for supper in Burlington before going to buy erotica at an adult bookstore caused Sean to chuckle. It was the wholesome contrasted with the intimate. And he could laugh about it because after thirty-three years, he didn’t expect Josh to come out to his mother, not even with the assumption that they were settling together for good.

Sean accepted that; he made his peace with that. He and Josh had discussed the notion of coming out long ago, and the psychiatrist didn’t expect Josh to do what he had done. His friend’s relationship with his parents was wholly different from Sean’s that their situations weren’t comparable. And while he thought in the abstract sense it was better not to live a lie, he would never pressure Josh.

He was fine to play pretend with his mother, as long as they didn’t have to play pretend elsewhere.

“Consider it a date,” he replied, once the chuckles passed, although a smile remained on his lips. “For both the road trip and the Internet. “I’m sure we could find something interesting.”

Based on some photos that Josh had sent him, which Sean hadn’t discussed, he was sure they could find something interesting. He liked experimentation, and he like indulging the other man; he liked indulging his partners.

The telepath was grateful for Josh’s realization of how serious this matter was, and for the fact that the other man didn’t press him for greater details. Sean didn’t want to go into greater detail because punishment was still underway for the students involved, and because he knew what had motivated them, which worsened the situation considerably.

There wasn’t grand hidden meaning in this outburst. This had been done for money and for attention, done because the individuals involved could; he knew all of that because he was the Hammel psychiatrist and he was familiar with the students and because he was the resident psychic powerhouse. But those answers hadn’t been satisfactory because it was difficult to accept such base motivations when doing something as horrible as had been done.

Needless to say, he wasn’t amused. “Quite unforgivable. I prefer Vincent’s streaking.” That had been easier to contain; that didn’t involve bystanders in the same way. It didn’t involve invasion of privacy and child pornography.

The topic shift, to something more banal and pleasant was appreciated, and he turned to smile at the other man. “Good for you.” He then shook his head. “I’m doing just fine; I’ll be ready to move on to another bag soon.”

[Joshua Bernstein]

If his mother ever clued in to his exact relationship with Sean she would be extremely displeased, and because he had a close relationship with her he wasn't too keen on altering her perceptions of him forever. In the abstract, he agreed with Sean that living a lie was not preferable, but this was a subject he'd never known how to broach with his parents.

In any event, his mother was the only person he didn't want to know about his relationship; he'd never told his siblings, but he was fairly certain that Talia suspected, and while he still wasn't sure how to go about bringing the topic up, he didn't think he would mind them and their families knowing, so long as they kept his mother in the dark.

And continuing the subject of not bringing things up, he had managed to forget he and Danny had sent Sean those pictures. Janice had given him a hard time about it, but not since his argument with Sean: She'd switched from the pictures to Vincent as a topic to nag him about. Had he remembered that he'd sent them, he would have been mortified; that was the epitome of poor, alcohol-influenced decision making.

But since he didn't recall this and the telepath didn't bring it up he simply smiled and agreed. "I'm sure we can."

Whatever had happened at the lecture had upset Sean considerably, that was apparent. Usually the other man was only mildly annoyed or frustrated, his patience with students and adults alike impressive. The emotions reflected on his face, though much more mild and accompanied by less yelling, reminded Josh uncomfortably of their argument mere days ago.

It was definitely time for a subject change.

"Great." There wasn't much more to be done, then; only a few more boxes to be brought in, mostly of books, and then the great unpacking could begin. Or continue, rather.

The remainder of the books went quickly on the shelf, with room to spare, which surprised him. Not that this spare room would last; he had a good many boxes left to unpack.

"I'll bring up another suitcase, we can work on it together." He offered, placing a hand on the doorknob.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Sean was upset over what had happened at his annual lecture for wholly different reasons than he’d been with Josh. With Josh, it had been personal; the other man had almost severed their friendship over assumptions, had taken him by surprise, and it had hurt. The conduct at the lecture had disgusted him. Not the balloon popping, not Sidra’s outfit, not even the cannon of sex toys (although that had been potentially dangerous since it used firepower and projectiles). No, Mia’s conduct, and Zac’s orchestration showed a complete disregard for the privacy of others and the respect other people were owed because they were fellow human beings. For profit and from boredom.

But he wasn’t at work, and he was unwilling to ruin what was otherwise a pleasant occasion, moving back in with Josh (rather Josh moving in with him); thus he took a deep breath and simply let it all go.

By that time, the telepath had finished unpacking that suitcase and had moved it to the floor to get it out of the way. Looking over at Josh upon hearing the offer, he nodded in acquiescence. “If you’re fine with bringing it up. Otherwise, you could stay up here and I can grab the next bag.”

[Joshua Bernstein]

Josh shrugged aside the offer to stay in the bedroom while Sean brought up the next bag. "I could do that." He agreed, folding his arms carefully across his chest in a manner that suggested he was about to be stubborn, head tilted to one side and expression set. "But I don't know why I would want to. I already told you the furniture is perfectly fine, and I'm done with this box."

He nudged the box with his foot as he spoke, as if pointing out its emptiness would convey just how silly staying here while the other man carried the luggage was.

"And besides, I already told you I'm not going to allow you to do all the work moving my belongings. I'm grateful for your help," He added hurriedly, uncrossing his arms and throwing them in front of his face defensively. "But this is my clothes and books, I can't ask you to do it all for me."

He glanced down at the box and added, "But I suppose there's enough for both of us to carry back up if we want."

And he pushed open the door, heading back down the stairs and into the foyer, where he'd stacked most of his boxes before the question of living space had come up.

"And sometimes I wonder why I think it's a good idea to have my own personal library." He sighed as he surveyed the rows of boxes on the floor in front of him. "Remind me why I like books so much again?"

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Sean chose his battles, and arguing over who would be the one to lug more boxes and bags up the stairs wasn’t a worthwhile use of his time. As such, he didn’t argue. “Fine. If you insist, I’ll come with you and we can share the burden.” That was decided, and he followed Josh out.

“Because they don’t sass you or make you share your feelings,” Sean replied as he walked with the other man back down the hall and then down the stairs. There were bags and boxes scattered through the foyer, and then a few more in the van; plenty for them to choose from.

He felt comfortable saying that, despite the fact that previous events were only earlier this week, because of the progress they were making. Josh had agreed, they were engaged in banter and moving Josh back in now and that was enough. “On the other hand, they also don’t rub your back when it hurts or cook your supper, so perhaps you don’t need as many as you have.”

He could say that as a fellow bibliophile.

Reaching the foyer, he found another suitcase and hefted it; it wasn’t as heavy as it could be, although he wouldn’t try lugging two up the stairs, not if he wanted to avoid a backache.

[Joshua Bernstein]

"No, that's why my roommates have been rabbits for the past fifteen years." Josh grabbed another box of books, hefting them into his arms and making his way back up the stairs. "They don't talk about feelings, don't worry when you come home late from work, and are cuddly when needed. On the other hand, they make poor drinking buddies."

He paused on the stairs, using one knee to push the box into a more stable position in his arms. "And they also don't do back rubs or cooking, although I should point out that I have yet to starve to death. I am capable of making sandwiches and toasting poptarts, regardless of what you seem to think."

Although, admittedly supper as cooked by Sean was infinitely tastier than sandwiches, unless the sandwich in question was pimento cheese. Or grilled pimento cheese.

He reflected ruefully that perhaps he was really five at heart.

"I've been trying to reread them..." He added, as if that was an excuse for having almost nothing but books to move with him. "But yes, I do enjoy dinner as crafted by Chef Neville. Who I hope is not planning on cooking after he's done all this hard work being Jeeves and the moving man."

[Dr. Sean Neville]

The telepath started up the stairs again, lugging the suitcase at his side, careful to make sure he didn’t upset his balance; neither he nor Josh needed him to take a tumble down the stairs. Aside from the obvious pain and risk of injury, there was the added fact that Josh couldn’t drive him to the hospital, and the nearest one wasn’t even in town. Best to be careful.

“You could always put a little bit of wine in with her water, but I concede your point.” Sean also didn’t advocate feeding any liquor to animals, because that was bad for their organs and bloodstream. “However, I also have to point out that pet cuddling isn’t anywhere in the same league as human cuddling.”

Aside from the matter of size and reciprocation, there was also the fact that for Sean, proper cuddling meant that gentle overhearing of surface thoughts. Animals were a blank screen, which was one of many reasons he owned no pets.

But he did own a fully-stocked kitchen. And as he reached the top of the stairs, he admonished, “I keep telling you that Poptarts aren’t food and sandwiches aren’t sustainable food. You’re a culinary nightmare.” Josh never complained about anything he made for supper, but the notion of Poptarts as food would make Julia Child roll over in her grave.

Lugging the suitcase down the hall and into the bedroom again, he set it in the center of the room, since the plan was to work in tandem. “I am planning on cooking, because I like to cook and half the work is already done; I started last night. And before you can protest, you can make it up to me later.”

[Joshua Bernstein]

"I don't believe that getting Mopsy drunk would be nearly as much fun as drinking with my friends." Never mind the fact that drinking with friends resulted in arson, embarrassing pictures, and confused flings. At least the confused flings part had gotten sorted out; it had only taken three decades.

"However, pet cuddling is perfectly nice. Pets don't judge you because they have absolutely no way of knowing that you need their cuddles because you screwed up." It was different with people; cuddling with people was complicated, because it generally involved one of several things Josh didn't want to deal with:

1. "I need cuddles because I messed up." That was the way straight to condemnation and being ostracized. He had only admitted to Cobalt about messing up with Sean because the emotions had been so overwhelming he'd had no choice but to let them out; he was in no hurry to repeat that situation.

2. "I need cuddles and you are there and willing but I don't really like you the way you like me." Which was just awkward, because then the cuddle partner got his feelings hurt when he expected more.

The only one of these applicable with Sean was number one, which was difficult as Sean not only could read his mind and know if he'd screwed up anyway, but he'd promised to communicate, which included confessing when that was the reason behind desires for cuddles.

Still, he sighed and conceded, "But you are a better cuddler than Mopsy."

He glanced back as Sean chided his eating habits. "Poptarts are food. They sell them in the grocery store and they are edible and they are subject to FDA regulations and are not a drug, ergo they are food. And sandwiches are tasty."

He resumed walking when Sean did, if only because he was in the way standing there in the middle of the hall.

"You started last night?" Josh was, in fact, planning on protesting, but the telepath cut him off before he could utter anything more.

"Hmm. I would say you drive a hard bargain, but I do enjoy your cooking, and I am fairly certain I shall enjoy repaying you." He teased, bending down to place his box on the floor before scooting it to the edge of the room so that he wouldn't trip over it while they put away his clothes.

"If I may ask," He began, unzipping his luggage and pulling out ties, "What are you cooking that you began it last night?"

[Dr. Sean Neville]

The telepath acknowledged that with a nod. “I imagine Mopsy doesn’t have a high alcohol tolerance which would put a damper on the night.” Drinking was far less enjoyable when one’s partner had to stop quickly, a problem that Josh had learned to rectify in college, which had transformed him before Sean’s eyes from a boy who would vomit at parties to someone who drank like a fish.

And people doubted human adaptation.

But then he became serious because of the other man’s remark about the relative virtues of pet ownership. His opinions were fine, of course, and synced with those of most other pet owners that Sean had encountered. Rather it was his perception of how people interacted that prompted Sean to take a more serious, albeit gentle, tone. “I don’t judge you.”

Sean was aware of Josh’s shortcomings; he was aware of most people’s shortcomings thanks to the telepathy and his observational skills and psychiatric training. He was well aware of is own shortcomings. Knowing Josh’s, he still accepted him for all he was, and for all he wasn’t. He’d fallen in love with the eighteen and nineteen year old who was so enthusiastic and made a place for himself with their college friends despite being years younger. He’d remained in love as that teenager had grown up to lead protests of his own and to use the legal system to benefit the downtrodden.

He’d remained in love year after year of visits and emotional intimacy that wasn’t quite befitting most friendships and rejection and withdrawal the morning after.

And while he was baffled by some of Josh’s decisions and knew that his friend’s sense of self-preservation and idealism didn’t always sync with reality, and while he needed Josh to work on a couple of those shortcomings for his own sanity, he still accepted the other man for who he was. He accepted that it would be a slow process, and he didn’t sit in judgment.

“And you might have forgotten this, but I’ve never needed a reason to cuddle someone, and so I wouldn’t ask if you had one. You’re welcome to just come up to me and do so whenever you want.”

That was a benefit of being together again, spousal privilege was back in effect.

“Poptarts are a mixture of sugar, artificial flavors, and flour, not even quality flour. They aren’t food, and from now on, you’re eating proper meals. I expect you won’t argue with me about this since you benefit directly from having real meals.” The telepath had had a similar argument with L.C. who also had a penchant for eating junk due to an absence of cooking in her life. He’d fixed that after a month or two of home cooked meals.

Smiling over his shoulder at the other man, he agreed, "Yes, I think you would enjoy repaying me. And if you insist, I already have an idea in mind."

Sean reached into the bag and pulled out several belts. He walked to the closet and then gestured at one part of what was now designated Josh’s half, where the special tie hanger rested. He then began looping belts around the belt hanger. “I’m making steak, but I had to marinate it last night to infuse the flavor. Don’t worry; I don’t plan to spend thirteen hours cooking; it isn’t as big a deal as it sounds.” Which Josh would know if he cooked.

The telepath finished with the belts and walked back into the bedroom proper to pull out another armful of clothing.

[Joshua Bernstein]

The fact that Sean enjoyed cuddling was well-known to Josh, although he frequently forgot. or rather, he had difficulty wrapping his mind around the fact that some people were comfortable with cuddling and didn't consider it a window into Feelings, and thus he had difficulty accepting on more than an intellectual level that it was acceptable to cuddle Sean whenever he wanted.

"I'll keep that in mind." He promised, and he meant it. It wouldn't be easy to admit to a desire for cuddles, but for Sean's sake he would make an attempt to offer them.

Sober.

Because he had plenty of experience with drunk cuddling, but he doubted that the other man would be thrilled if those continued to be the only kind available to him.

"What am I supposed to eat for breakfast?" He was comfortable with the fact that Sean would cook supper, but he didn't expect breakfast when there were cheap and easy options. "You're not going to ask me to eat one of those tasteless health-food cereals, are you?" He still couldn't quite believe that people were willing to eat those.

He began to hang up his ties carefully, grateful that Sean was sparing him this space. "Steak does sound delicious." He admitted, though he wasn't entirely sure he believed that it wouldn't take ages to cook. He remained impressed by the cooking prowess of other people, convinced that it was a difficult task only the smartest of people could achieve.

"Thank you." He sent a smile in Sean's direction as they worked. "For helping me move in. And allowing me to. And cooking dinner."

He had a lot to be grateful for with Sean.

"Ideas already?" He laughed as he finished with his ties. "Pray tell me what your idea is so I can be prepared."

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Sean knew that Josh meant those five words, which made them all the more important. That was all he wanted from the other man, for him to make an effort. He didn’t expect him to meet all needs, but as long as he was willing to try, Sean would be quite happy. “Good.”

There would still be room for drunk cuddling, but alcohol no longer needed to be the sole window into intimacy.

“I have about three sleeves of English muffins in the freezer, and fruit, and oatmeal. And since I have to be at work in the morning too and don’t eat Poptarts, I can just make you breakfast when I’m making mine. It isn’t an imposition; it’s how families work.” The telepath turned to look at the other man across the closet. “And unless you’ve expanded the definition of ‘tasteless’ and ‘health-food’ to encompass anything that might be real food then no, I won’t ask that of you.”

Hearing the other man agree that the supper plans sounded delicious, he considered the matter settled. “Good. You think about whether you want potatoes or rice with that.”

He fished around the suitcase and cake up with a stack of collared shirts, which he brought out to hang as well. His expression softened at the smile and at Josh’s litany of reasons for his gratitude. “You’re welcome. Thank you for moving in.” That alone was worth all of the work yesterday and today, to know that Josh would be in their bed with him tonight.

Sean began to hang the shirts, one by one, on the available hangers. “I don’t want to choreograph this myself, since you should use some of your own ingenuity. But shall we say it involves one or both of us and the hot tub?”

[Joshua Bernstein]

English muffins, fruit, and oatmeal. He shouldn't have been surprised; perhaps had he not been in such a hurry to leave and pretend nothing had ever happened he would have been aware of the breakfast options in the Neville house. Perhaps if he'd not been drugged up he would have been aware that Sean cooking breakfast for him was because that was routine and not just because he was on bed rest and needed the help.

"It's what families do, is it." Yet another thought that hadn't occurred to him was that the act of moving in, and of sharing a bedroom, made them more than simply lovers; they were, as Sean had pointed out, a family. Perhaps because his relationship with his parents had never really evolved past that of child he'd never sought to start his own family. Before he'd met Sean he'd been sure that he would start one because it was expected of him; after Sean he'd decided he wasn't that interested in the concept. Now it was being introduced again, though he supposed that he didn't object. Sean had always been as close as family, anyway.

"Very well, so long as you allow me to help you clean up the kitchen," He gave what was supposed to be a very stern glare, to show that he was serious about this. There was some kitchen equipment he couldn't have cleaned to save his life, but he could load up a dishwasher and wipe off counters and tables with the best of them.

He paused in between hanging ties long enough to stroke his chin in an exaggerated gesture of thoughtfulness as he considered Sean's suggestion for evening activities and tokens of appreciation. "So the only necessity beyond it involve the two of us is the hot tub, and otherwise I have creative license?"

He thought he could handle that; it wasn't as if they didn't both have experience to draw from, although it was entirely possible that most of Josh's even in his other few relationships had been coupled with alcohol. Still, the return from Boston had resulted in a most pleasant re-acquaintance, and while wine had been consumed there had been several hours worth of driving between that and the slumber party, so he knew that relations sober were not only possible, but also worth pursuing.

"I don't suppose," He continued, the last tie now victoriously adorning the tie rack, "that you could, you know, turn up your shields a bit?"

He fetched the remaining shirts from the suitcase, draping them over one arm and sidling up to the telepath so that their shoulders would have touched if they'd been closer in height. "It's difficult to surprise you otherwise," He explained frankly, peeling one shirt off his arms and placing it on an empty hanger, "And you realize I'm going to be trying to decide how best to thank you the rest of the day, so it won't do if you're reading my thoughts."

[Dr. Sean Neville]

“That is what families do.” Families took care of each other. That was all he had ever wanted out of life, and he thought he did a good enough job with the various layers of makeshift family he had created over the years. He took care of the students, he took care of his friends; he’d taken care of Robert, Robert had taken care of him. He’d helped his sister at the hospital when she’d given birth to Ryan; he already took care of Josh in so many ways...Sean had the caring aspect down pat. And now he could extend it to its logical conclusion and hoped that Josh wouldn’t resist and claim that he was fussing too much. Because he only wanted to be a family with Josh, and to do what came naturally.

He then lifted his hands, demonstrating that he had no intention of arguing with the other man about his offer to clean up later. “By all means; post meal cleanup can be your domain.” That was already their usual division of labor when Josh came over for supper.

“That’s a fair summary,” the telepath agreed with a nod. “Although if you don’t feel up to the task, you can take full creative license and nix the hot tub.” He assumed that wasn’t necessary as he had full confidence in Josh’s abilities.

While Josh might not have had as many relationships as Sean had, and he hadn’t taught a sexual education seminar for the past twenty-plus years, and he didn’t have access to the collective body of intimate experience that came from his telepathy (for better or for worse), the other man was still an adult with an imagination and a sexual history. He could handle this task.

He could handle this task sober. Sean had been aware of this since the first time they’d ever been together, all those decades ago. He was reassured of that earlier this week when Josh had slept over (“slept” was generous since Sean had been kept awake all night) and Josh had been fine, perhaps inspired all while completely, stone-cold sober.

At the request, Sean turned around again to look at the other man He quirked his eyebrow questioningly, but waited for the explanation, since the request was essentially unprecedented. And with the explanation, he was willing to indulge the request. He made an exaggerated gesture of pressing two fingers to his right temple, and then dropped them a moment later after reinforcing his mental shields. “There. I still make no guarantees,” since Josh was aware of the strength of his telepathy and how in sync they were together, but he was making a good faith effort.

“And if you want to mentally undress a celebrity or someone at the court house without my knowing, now is the time to do it.” With that, he finished with the pile of shirts and stepped out to replenish his load.

[Joshua Bernstein]

"I like the hot tub." Josh said simply, attention on his shirts. "It presents a nice challenge. Besides, it's relaxing."

And Sean was perfectly correct that at fifty-one years of age and with several relationships behind him, as much as he tried to pretend they didn't exist they had imbued him with experience, even if a fair bit of it was alcohol-related.

"Thank you." He was pleased that the telepath was willing to go against natural instincts for this one time. He ordinarily was comfortable with the fact that his mind was being scanned, and that said scanning was largely subconscious rather than the results of concentrated effort, but if he was going to come up with a plan he wanted it to be a surprise. That was part of the fun.

He rolled his eyes, however, at the comment about mentally undressing people. "That was exactly why I asked." He retorted, finishing with his own stack of shirts and following Sean back into the bedroom.

He watched the other man for a moment, conflict written across his features, before he stepped closer, wrapping an arm around Sean's waist gently. "You did say I could cuddle without warning."

He doubted this was meant to apply to in the middle of helping unpack, but if he was going to get used to the idea of randomly cuddling Sean he needed to practice, and what better time to practice than when the thought was on his mind?

OOC: are you happy, Kayla?