Namor & Gabriel

[x-velocidad.livejournal.com]

Namor McKenzie is a Jerk! Gabriel meets Namor, and things go about how you'd expect.

New York gyms were dark, cramped, sweaty and, maybe above all, expensive. Gabriel knew because he'd sampled plenty of them. Well, "sampled." Really, he'd sign up for a free trial, get to know the lay of the land, then use his powers to zip by front desks and security checks after he'd needed to start paying. Eventually, he'd get found out (or get tired of routine), and he'd switch.

The point being, Gabriel had spent time in many a New York gym - what gay man in his various lines of work hadn't - and none of them remotely compared to the complex at Xavier's. He was pretty sure the machine he was now using for his lat pulldown was nicer than anything he'd even touched at UT. As he jammed along to the Cults album blasting from his nearby iPhone, he started his last rep, too focused on the shininess of the machine to pay too much attention to his form.

The shadow that passed behind Gabe and his machine may have rolled its eyes at the form, but Namor was far too dignified to intercede. It wasn't his job. It was his job to continue to be strong, at least in his own measuring of things, and that involved weights. The other nice about Xavier's gym was that it had specialized equipment to challenge those with super strength. So as Namor had entered a few pulldowns ago, he was now on his way to the power rack.

He did, however, reflexively give Gabe the bro-iest of bro-nods as he passed.

Gabriel gave a bro nod back, went back to his workout, then did a little bit of a double-take. He'd sworn he'd seen that other man before, but he couldn't place him. Although he did have one thought, but it seemed pretty far-fetched.

He rose from the machine and grabbed his iPhone to turn down the volume of his workout playlist. After a second, he turned to the other man and risked breaking an unspoken bro workout code. "Hey - have we met or anything? I'm Gabriel."

Namor looked up from adjusted the (he felt, at least) overly complicated interface for the barbells. He stared blankly for a second before responding, "No. We have not." He went back to setting up back squats

"Huh. Okay," Gabriel said, watching Namor for a second. He sat back down on the machine and grabbed his water bottle, not entirely sure what to make of either the sense of deja vu or the other man's seeming standoffishness.

At this point he figured there were three possibilities, so he went with the one that seemed most obvious. Or at least the most fun. "Well, for what it's worth," he smiled, "you've got a really kinky doppelganger with atrocious spelling."

The other young man slowly met eyes with Gabe, and his face was devoid of expression. "That cannot be true. My spelling is immaculate."

Gabriel's smile widened in the face of the nameless other man's disquieting expressionlessness. "Well, first, I notice you didn't correct my other point. And second, duh - doppelganger. You've got an evil twin with bad booksmarts and weird taste." He wondered if he could make the other man flinch, or if his mutation was having Buckingham Palace-style mental discipline. "No judgment here. Different strokes and all." And, unable to help himself, he winked.

"I take it you must be new here. Very well." He straightened, stiffening visibly, but his eyes never left Gabe's. There was no twitch at the wink. "First. Weird dopplegangers are likely normal here. There is always something inexplicable happening, and the sooner you are able to move on the more likely will you be to survive. Two. I make a habit of keeping my bedroom preferences in the bedroom. Different positions can maximize the experience."

"Oh, you don't have to tell me, nameless foreboding stranger." Gabriel's grin grew, because really, how could it not? "Although, you know, by even saying that, you're not actually keeping your preferences to the bedroom. Unless we're in a bedroom, in which case," Gabriel looked around before returning to Namor, "I kinda get what you're going for here." He shrugged, disappointed to see no sign of breaking the other man. "Not very surprising."

"Ah. I see you are one of those. I should have known."

"Excuse me?" Gabriel's smile disappeared, and his cheeks grew hot. Whether he'd intended to or not, the other man had hit a nerve. "You sure you don't want to walk that one back?"

Namor raised an eyebrow. "Half the residents here believe that you can never have too many clever words. Like the world needs narration to keep on spinning."

"And you're from the humorless half that doesn't like interactions with others, I take it?"

"I prefer intelligent dialogue." Another pause. "Of course, I am not being as fair as you deserve. My name is Namor de McKenzie."

"Charmed," Gabriel said with a smile, even though at this point, he basically wasn't. "Sorry for ragging on you," he added, meaning that a little more despite being convinced that Namor de McKenzie was a jerk.

He had that effect on people. "You may be forgiven in time. Mister... Gabriel, are you attending college in the area?"

"How very noble of you," Gabriel said dryly. Lacking someone to exchange a glance with, he settled for showing Namor just how amused he was becoming by this whole exchange. "It's Cohuelo, and nope, not me. I'm... not quite the college type, I guess." Was that a better explanation than the truth? He wasn't sure, but he did know that Namor seemed like the kind of guy to be judgmental either way. "I mean, I don't really have the money." That was probably more awkward.

"Oh." An awkward pause for collection. "I see how that would pose a problem in theory," and Namor's tone really wasn't selling that statement, "But I also know that the Mansion is more than generous when it comes to furthering resident's education. You should speak with Mr. Summers or Mr. Haller."

"Yeah." Namor was met with an awkward pause. "Yeah. That's not a bad idea. Maybe I'll do that." He had no intention of doing that. "So you're a student, I take it? Around here, or in the city or what?"

"I am studying at Columbia."

"So smart," Gabriel nodded approvingly. "Or... rich?" He cocked an eyebrow. "Possibly both?" He wasn't counting on both.

"Both."

A beat. "I have advantages due to my upbringing," Namor considered, "But I'm finding that ruthless practicality is a bit more of an advantage in Pre-Law. Still, this is a school. What are you here for, Senhor Cohuelo?"

"Ruthless practicality or practiced ruthlessness?" Gabriel didn't serve up a big smile, since it wasn't a great joke, and Namor didn't seem like much the joking type anyway. "All I meant is that I've met a few Columbia students who were more like rich cave dwellers them elite intellectuals. Not that they didn't have other redeeming qualities," he added, "but sometimes you wonder.

"As for me?" Gabriel paused, weighing whether a lie or the truth would be more unnerving, at least to Namor. "Well, Jean convinced me to come." Oh, what the hell. It'd probably get out anyway. "After I tried to steal from two deranged mutant women at a bar who tried to kill me. Weeks after I tried to rob Jean." Gabriel shrugged, not really bothering to see how Namor was reacting. "Life's about choices. I've made a lot of questionable ones. I think she's hoping I can be reprogrammed."

"Can you?" Namor asked idly. "This is a school, and those in charge like to pride themselves on their ability to teach and let the students make their own decisions. I feel they are a little soft-handed."

"Guess we'll see," Gabriel shrugged. That was a fair question, and one he'd been asking himself. "I don't think — I stole out of necessity. I never really enjoyed the act itself." He wondered if saying that made it true. "So, you know, your pearls are safe or whatever."

He nodded as if this made sense, and possibly was forming the smallest hints of a smile. It was likely a trick of the light. "I will keep all of my pearls and precious art outside of the vault then. How reassuring."

Gabriel accepted the twitch he thought might have been happening at the corners of Namor's mouth to be a victory. "By all means. Your Cezanne is secure." He bent down and picked his empty water bottle off the floor. "Well, dude, I've got a thing, so I leave you to your strength training and your silence. But, you know. Thanks for enduring my prattling on."

"Wonderful," and Namor's dry tone was honest relief tempered by a sardonic edge, "I trust that we will run into eachother again. Eventually." It was hard to tell if he was possibly dreading that future, or merely bidding Gabriel to go.

"Yeah." Gabriel suppressed the urge to roll his eyes, because it wasn't like he'd really done that much to make their conversation all that pleasant. Maybe next time. "I hear that sort of thing happens when people are living in the same place." He shrugged and gave Namor an obligatory smile. "Your shoe's untied. Take care." He pulled his iPhone back out of his pocket as he departed, determined to find the other man's look-alike.

"Actually I fin--" And then he looked down at his shoe confusedly, even though Namor knew that his shoes did not have laces. There was no Gabriel when he looked up. This time the Attilani did actually shrug now that it was just him, the shiny weights, and his glorious silence.