Truth is a Beautiful Thing // axonsfiring
Jonathan looks up from the sink, soapy sponge in hand. Connor’s got an eyebrow cocked, watching his roommate scrub the same clean plate for about three minutes. Jonathan shuts off the water and drops the sponge. “I’m not nervous.”
Rather than dignifying the lie with a response, Connor flops onto the couch and says, “He’s your cousin, not the queen.”
Under his breath, Jonathan says, “He may not be the queen, but he’s certainly a queen.”
“Okay, Will Truman, let’s take the internalized homophobia down a few notches, shall we?”
Jonathan sighs. “You’re right. I’m...I’m sorry. It’s just...” He grabs a dish towel off of the counter and dries his hands. “I was a dick to him, you know? Like, our entire childhood. Especially when he moved in, after...”
Connor nods. “After his parents kicked him out for being a mutant. I’m aware.”
Avoiding his gaze, Jonathan continues, “I was jealous, and I was angry, and I was an asshole, okay? And now he’s here in town, and he’s giving me the chance to make things right.”
Connor’s silent for a while, examining his cuticles. “And why do you want to make things right? Why now?”
“Connor.” Connor doesn’t look up. “Connor.” Jonathan sits beside him on the couch. “Connor, come on.”
Connor’s eyes finally flash up, and there’s something roiling in them. “You haven’t even talked through it with me, and I’m not a family member you ostracized years ago.”
“Look, I’m trying, okay? This is me, trying.”
“Thanks so much for the effort.” The words don’t have the bite Connor had intended, because in truth, he knows this is an effort for Jonathan. He sighs. “All I’m saying is, reconnecting with the cousin you hated for being a mutant isn’t going to magically make your anti-mutant prejudices go away. This is going to take a lot of work.”
Jonathan places a hand on Connor’s knee. “I know that.”
“I mean, it’s not like I showed my parents Milk and overnight they were sponsoring pride floats, you know?”
Connor’s eyes narrow, but before he can retort, there’s a knock at the door. His eyebrows flick upward. “Here we go.”
Jonathan takes a deep breath and pushes himself off of the couch. It’s only a few feet to the apartment door, and he lets his finger rest on the handle for a moment before slowly opening the door.