"I mean, not like you were a bad lay or anything," he huffs a bit of laughter at that, brushing the pad of his thumb down Jesus' chin, over his beard. "So I wouldn't say no to a round two, three, four, five..."
"Tch, please," he appreciates the gentle ways in which this conversation becomes a little more light-hearted. "I gotta be good and not miss quota again, so. Might hear from me every now and then."
"No but I came close. I ended up in the Zoo for fighting a guard anyway. My friend, though... It was hard for him. I think it would be for me, too." He frowns. "I'm okay as long as I get to choose. You know? The injection takes away some of those choices."
"Yeah, I know," looking down for a moment, he tilts his head. "I missed quota last month. First time in almost two years for me." A shrug, he looks over to Jesus. "Death just doesn't get me all horny and wanting to fuck, you know? But not like they care here."
"Before I came here I'd barely been with anyone in ten years. It's... Hard. Getting used to being with men again." Fun, too, clearly. He enjoyed what they just did. But it's difficult when he thinks too much about it.
"Don't think too much about it," he offers. "It's a good way to complicate things... catch feelings and all that. It's just sex here. That's all this place cares about."
Feelings are the last thing he wants. That much, at least, is easier here: he has plenty of friends and he has sex with some of them but it's not complicated.
"What? Caught feelings?" He figures that's what he's asking and he heaves a sigh, fingers carding through his hair as he looks away for a moment. "Yeah," he starts. "He's not here anymore though." He's still dealing with that, especially when he'd been his first love and all.
Sigh on his lips, he drops his hand out of his hair to the bed. "There's a couple others I care about... love, in my own way, just." He shakes his head, teeth dragging over his bottom lip as he looks ahead. "I'm really fucking difficult to get involved with. Some days I want it and other days I don't. It's why I need some place like this for myself. When I feel like I'm on the verge of being self-destructive. It's not fair to them and sometimes I catch myself getting in that mood, but. Not always."
When you've been treated a certain way for being Different — when your own parents didn't want you and there might have been a bit of abuse involved there, it doesn't help with a lot of the way he is with certain things.
There are people he cares about. But there are very valid reasons he never got involved with anyone after the world fell and it's not just because there weren't options.
"I'm not a good boyfriend. And I'm happier not trying to be one. Some people, like us, are just that way." Abuse and neglect and abandonment started it but he has to wonder if he wasn't just born this way, too.
This is... probably the first time he's come across someone else who (seemingly) thinks or feels like he does when it comes to all this. He's not sure what to make of that, but. It's something.
"Sometimes I want to be that? Like, say boyfriend and all, but. Other times, I don't. Or I think it's pointless in a place like this especially and it's better to just... I don't know. Care for people but not have it be something?" He laughs a little, shaking his head. "I don't know. I try not to think about it too much because, like I said, it complicates things."
"I like the idea of it. But once I'm actually in it, I last a year or two and then..." He gestures with a hand at the door; a year or so of trying and then he bolts.
"And especially here, I just don't see how adding that kind of mess could help me. Help anyone I was attached to. Some people make it work, but I've never been one of them. And that's okay."
It's okay, too, that John doesn't want things complicated more than they already are for him.
Wow, for someone to just get it and know what that feeling is like with wanting to bolt after awhile... he's not sure if he's glad someone else gets it or that it sucks.
"Yeah. I... really get that. The whole liking the idea of it and being ok with it for a bit but then... I don't know. It's not that I'm tired of it? I just feel... frustrated. Like some part of me wants to claw out of my skin."
A shrug, he looks over to Jesus.
"Doesn't help when you sometimes get a certain way about how everyone is just with everyone and it's normal or whatever." John and normal have never gone hand-in-hand that great after all.
"When I was a kid I wanted a family. I had it in my head I'd have a dog, two parents, at least one brother. Then," a wry smile,a sigh.
"I'd end up in a foster home with two parents and foster siblings and sometimes there were pets and all I wanted was to leave. It's always been this way for me. But I've learned how to be happy and how to be with other people in the way that works for me; it's not normal. It's not what other people seem to have. But I can live with it."
He listens when Jesus goes and tells him the things he had wanted once upon a time. He can't say he ever wanted similar, given his coming from a broken home, but. Feeling as though you're not the so-called normal one when it comes to relationships or the expectations of them... he can relate to that. Unfortunately? Who knows.
"There's always that disappointment from others, you know? It's like... they expect you to be ok with how they see it — how they do things but... when you feel like you're crawling out of your skin because of it or like you're feeling trapped and you're going crazy or getting angry because of it, they just don't get it. Or take it as you not really caring. When you do, it's just... different. I don't know."
"I always care. I never stop caring." Even with them all being dead now, even with his last relationship having ended twelve years ago. "But you can only care the way you know how. And my way doesn't look like how people expect. I think yours probably doesn't either. It doesn't mean it isn't real."
It's strange how, hearing that from someone else who genuinely understands it and is that way... it's comforting. Strange only because John hasn't really had that here — had someone who is more or less similar with feelings about all of that.
"Yeah," the word is soft, much like the nod to follow. "I've struggled with that a lot here. Like where I love someone but it's not in the forever kind of way. But I don't know. Even then I wonder if it's being in love with someone or just loving them. It's different, you know?"
"Yeah. At least I assume it is. I've loved men. I've never been in love." Not in any groundbreaking, powerful way. Not in any way that lasted even if he does still care for his exes.
That has John glancing down to his hands — to the small spark of flame he ignites there in his palm and just holds. Gently. As if so precious to him.
"I wonder about that, too," he says then, soft. "Whether I'm in love or just love them." And that right there is something he hasn't really talked about before.
"I wish I could say what the difference is. How to get from one feeling to the other." But like John said, it's not fair to the other person in the relationship. So Jesus just doesn't have relationships.
His... ex? His boyfriend here— Alec. He's sure he was in love with him. It wouldn't have hurt so much to lose him if he hadn't been, even if some things between them had changed. But his other relationships here, he's not sure and no one wants to be told that someone loves them but isn't in love with them.
Cradling the small flame there in his hand, he looks over to Jesus then.
"Thanks," he says then. "For... listening. Not judging, I guess."
"Be pretty hypocritical of me to judge," he points out, though there is a reason he earned his nickname. Judgment isn't something he holds onto.
"The one thing the survivors I know have in common is we take the good where it comes and we don't let it ruin us when it's gone. I think you'd survive with us."
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"Have you ever? In two years here?"
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Sigh on his lips, he drops his hand out of his hair to the bed. "There's a couple others I care about... love, in my own way, just." He shakes his head, teeth dragging over his bottom lip as he looks ahead. "I'm really fucking difficult to get involved with. Some days I want it and other days I don't. It's why I need some place like this for myself. When I feel like I'm on the verge of being self-destructive. It's not fair to them and sometimes I catch myself getting in that mood, but. Not always."
When you've been treated a certain way for being Different — when your own parents didn't want you and there might have been a bit of abuse involved there, it doesn't help with a lot of the way he is with certain things.
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There are people he cares about. But there are very valid reasons he never got involved with anyone after the world fell and it's not just because there weren't options.
"I'm not a good boyfriend. And I'm happier not trying to be one. Some people, like us, are just that way." Abuse and neglect and abandonment started it but he has to wonder if he wasn't just born this way, too.
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"Sometimes I want to be that? Like, say boyfriend and all, but. Other times, I don't. Or I think it's pointless in a place like this especially and it's better to just... I don't know. Care for people but not have it be something?" He laughs a little, shaking his head. "I don't know. I try not to think about it too much because, like I said, it complicates things."
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"And especially here, I just don't see how adding that kind of mess could help me. Help anyone I was attached to. Some people make it work, but I've never been one of them. And that's okay."
It's okay, too, that John doesn't want things complicated more than they already are for him.
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"Yeah. I... really get that. The whole liking the idea of it and being ok with it for a bit but then... I don't know. It's not that I'm tired of it? I just feel... frustrated. Like some part of me wants to claw out of my skin."
A shrug, he looks over to Jesus.
"Doesn't help when you sometimes get a certain way about how everyone is just with everyone and it's normal or whatever." John and normal have never gone hand-in-hand that great after all.
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"I'd end up in a foster home with two parents and foster siblings and sometimes there were pets and all I wanted was to leave. It's always been this way for me. But I've learned how to be happy and how to be with other people in the way that works for me; it's not normal. It's not what other people seem to have. But I can live with it."
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"There's always that disappointment from others, you know? It's like... they expect you to be ok with how they see it — how they do things but... when you feel like you're crawling out of your skin because of it or like you're feeling trapped and you're going crazy or getting angry because of it, they just don't get it. Or take it as you not really caring. When you do, it's just... different. I don't know."
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"Yeah," the word is soft, much like the nod to follow. "I've struggled with that a lot here. Like where I love someone but it's not in the forever kind of way. But I don't know. Even then I wonder if it's being in love with someone or just loving them. It's different, you know?"
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"I wonder about that, too," he says then, soft. "Whether I'm in love or just love them." And that right there is something he hasn't really talked about before.
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Cradling the small flame there in his hand, he looks over to Jesus then.
"Thanks," he says then. "For... listening. Not judging, I guess."
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"The one thing the survivors I know have in common is we take the good where it comes and we don't let it ruin us when it's gone. I think you'd survive with us."
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