Some kind of Special

He stood in front of the full length mirror, idly thumbing the stiff leather of the new vest. It felt odd, heavy against his body, like the weight of responsibility that was readily welcomed. It didn't seem that long ago that everything had fallen apart. His world crashing in around him. Gone was the swat gear and standard issue garb. Suddenly replaced with friends of questionable backgrounds but undeniable loyalty to their leader and to each other and a new life full of the unexpected. Kazuo MacNiall never anticipated any of this. The quiet man who rarely smiled felt joy swell in his chest. It was a foreign emotion. He couldn't remember the last time he felt it so strongly. They had accepted him into their family, their close knit society, despite his background.  For that alone, he was grateful. The corners of his lips began to curl slowly upward as he continued to run his fingers over the patches given to him, lost in thought.
"That looks good on you." Kaz turned quickly, shocked that someone had snuck up on him, the half smile disappearing almost immediately. Almost. There, in the doorway, stood Jean-Paul. The shorter man leaned against the door frame as he admired the view. The newly patched biker couldn't help the blush, a new habit that always seem to accompany the other man , that redden his cheeks.
"It's still needs to be broken in." Kaz mumbled and turned stiffly back to the mirror and adjusting the vest once more.
"I meant  the smile." Suddenly, Jean-Paul was just a little too close a little too fast. Kaz couldn't look the other in the eye. He snorted uneasily as he continued to fidget. "But the vest looks good too." The blush burned a deeper red.
"Thanks" Kaz looked up then, startling green eyes meeting his reflection in the mirror. He wasn't used to this blunt show of affection. He knew that Jean-Paul was a flirt. Actually flirt didn't even begin to describe it. Anything old enough to have a libido was fair game. Kaz wasn't a jealous man. But he would admit, never out loud or to anyone,  that there were times that it hurt to see Jean-Paul with someone else, touching them, loving on them. Sometimes when it was just him and JP, the extravert facade would drop and the real Jean-Paul would appear. Those moments were so unbelievably special and rare that he could count them on his fingers. Kaz felt oddly honored that this man would gift him with such wonder.
Jean-Paul gently wiped invisible wrinkles from the back of the vest, an easy excuse to touch the man. A soft genuine smile playing across his lips. The vest did look good on Kaz, he had to admit. He did not feel any jealously towards the other, just undeniable joy and happiness for him. Kaz looked away once more, feeling awkward under the scrutinizing stare of the other man. Jean-Paul's only arm slowly slipped around his waist. It rested gently on the flat of his stomach. The gesture was not sexual, which was odd coming from Jean-Paul, just friendly reassurance as he pulled the taller man back against his frame.
Kaz let out a sigh, relaxing slightly into the other's embrace. He felt Jean-Paul's goatee thru the vest, as he leaned his cheek against the back of his leather clad shoulder.  The long haired man  could smell JP's cologne, the strong aroma of scotch, and the unyielding scent that was purely Jean-Paul. Strong lips began to gently kiss his shoulder, nuzzling dark locks out of the way as he journeyed up the back of Kaz's collar bone and towards his neck.
"Are you Happy?" Jean-Paul whispered between each show of affection, never stopping. Kaz honestly didn't know how to respond. Was he happy? Oddly enough, this was the happiest he had been in sometime. But would it last? Or would it fade when the newness of the situation subsided. Things were better that was for sure. Even after the incident with Black Jack, life began looking up. "Getting there."
"Good" Kaz didn't smile but his eyes did, sparkling slightly with the pride the overflowed within him. He wanted to show the other man that he was grateful for him, for his unyielding faith that he was telling the truth when shit had hit the fan. Slowly, he lifted his arm from his side, placing a hesitant hand upon the glittering one that held him. Jean-Paul's eyes looked up, watching his actions intently. No words were exchanged. None were needed. Their eyes met and a silent message was conveyed. "You don't have to." "I want to." The tan man knew how hard it was for the stoic man to show affection when everything in Kaz's mind told him that Jean-Paul was going to betray him.
Jean-Paul gently turned the long haired man towards him, breaking their stare within the mirror. Never once did their hands stop touching, he looked down amazed as he brought the other's appendage to his lips and softly kissed each knuckle, each scar, each callous. "Thank you." Kaz's eye grew wide for a second before softening as he stared intently at the almost loving actions. Green eyes looked back at him, hooded behind thick lashes. Right then, Jean-Paul wished he had both arms. He didn't want to let go of the beautiful, handsome man that stood in front of him. He wanted to wrapped his arms around him and bury his face in the other's neck, feeling the long dark locks against his cheek. He wanted Kaz to feel protected, cared for, not that he needed it. The tall man was a strong man in his own right. He didn't need Jean-Paul's protection. But JP wanted him to feel and have it anyways, needed him to know that he would do anything for him.
The shorter man pulled their bodies close together as if he wanted to melt them into one being. He guided the other's arms around his waist as he too embraced him. Slowly he leaned forward, closing the only gap between them, and pressed his lips to the other man's. Kaz's eyes grew wide once more, before gently falling shut. The kiss was passionate, a soft union of two men too proud, too stubborn, to admit that they cared for one another. Fingers began to leave half moons in each other's skin and the passion began to heat up. Tongues battled and teeth clashed. Jean-Paul pulled away, stumbling slightly, and he turned his head to miss the hurt look that he knew would barely grace the other's stern features. Though he hadn't known Kaz that long, the short haired man could read the ever so subtle changes in expression. They were as clear as day to him.  But right now, they weren't ready to go this far.  Not yet at least.  If at all. He felt angry for letting it get this intense so soon.
Taking a deep breath, he turned and took one glance at red lips, plump from kissing, and knew he was gone. Jean-Paul gulped, swallowing hard against the sudden lump in his throat. He needed air, needed some space against the onslaught of emotion that threaten to overwhelm him. He tried to reassure Kaz that he was not upset at the other man.
        "Let's go get a beer to celebrate," was the best he could manage. Kaz nodded and headed towards the door. Shit, JP thought, what had he done? He stared at the other's retreating back. Absentmindedly, he fingered the ring around his neck. Damnit, what should he do? The tall man turned back towards him, giving him a look that said 'Are you coming?' And suddenly, Jean-Paul knew that he would follow this man anywhere. Into battle, into bed, in friendship, in camaraderie, he would prove to this man that there were people in the world who would not betray him and he was one of them.
Jean-Paul sighed then, moving out the door and towards their bikes. The sun glared harshly, surrounding Kaz in a golden ball of light. It was almost as if some god, if there were any, knew that this diamond in the rough was some kind of special. The shorter man shielded his eyes against the onslaught, a smile gracing his lips. He mounted his steel horse and revved the engine along side the other's.
"Come on let's ride!"