Forge and Jay, Thursday night

[x-forge.livejournal.com]

After Monday evening's awkwardness, Forge finally comes to talk to Jay about what happened. Things are no less awkward, but an understanding of sorts is reached.




"Jay, this isn't easy to say..."
"Jay, just sit down and listen..."
"Jay, it's not what you're thinking..."

Forge paced back and forth in the hall, hand continually reaching for the doorknob to his suite and pausing. He'd managed to spend most of the last two days in the lab, the sunroom, down on the dock, or in the garage to avoid awkward moments with his suitemate. But awkwardness had to happen sooner or later, he figured, and it may as well be planned.

Taking a deep breath, Forge opened the door, walking quickly across the common area and knocking on Jay's bedroom door.

"C'min," Jay called, his voice slightly muffled by the towel on his head that he was using to dry his recently washed hair. He was sitting on his bed, wearing only a pair of denim shorts. It was getting too hot out for shirts (normally for Jay, anything over sixty-five is too hot for shirts, but for decorum's sake, he was waiting until the summer to claim his nudist cred).

But he reconsidered his garb when he lowered the towel and saw who was at the door. "H-heya, Forge," he greeted his suitemate, feeling suddenly modest.

"Jay." Forge's planned words caught in his throat. "I wanted to, uh... I was going to... okay, I owe you an explanation." He sighed, cradling his forehead in his hand and leaning back against the wall before continuing.

"So I was all set to come in here and say 'it's not you, it's me'. But that's not true," Forge explained. "It's you."

"Ya really know how ta charm a fella," Jay muttered, pulling his knees up to his chest. "Ah'm sorry, Forge. Ah shouldn't've . . . it wasn't fair of me ta do wha . . . ta kiss ya." If they were going to do the honest thing, there was no point at denying what had happened.

Forge held up his hand. "Look, how many times have I said you don't have to be embarassed of how you feel? You misunderstand - when I say 'it's you', I don't mean it's your fault, or that there's something wrong with you. It's..." He sighed, dropping down to sit on the edge of Jay's bed.

"Jay," he began, "you're probably one of the best friends I've got here. You listen to my crap, you tell me when it's crap, and I know you're not going to turn around and make fun of me for it. You know Shakespeare, you make music, you can fly - you can do all this stuff no one else can do, and you don't think that puts you above me. That's... I'm not used to having friends, okay?" Forge looked at the wall in silence, biting his lower lip.

"I freaked out because I didn't know what else to do. It'd have been the same if it'd have been Catseye, or Dani, or Kyle. And if that's me being an ass - I'm sorry."

Jay released a breath he didn't know he'd been holding in. If the problem was that Jay was being too forward and Forge just didn't have the experience to deal with romance, then that didn't mean that he wasn't interested. So maybe there was a chance. "S'okay, man. Ah'd probably have been thrown for a loop iffn a good friend told me they like me that way, too," he said, wearing a small, relieved smile. "It ain't everyday that that happens." He patted Forge's hand reassuringly, letting his fingers linger ever so before withdrawing his hand.

Forge finally let out a smile. "I suppose I'm flattered. I mean, after the whole 'holy shit, wrong Guthrie!' reaction. And it's..." he paused, awkwardly struggling with words, "I know it doesn't change how I feel. I know you're my friend and... I don't know if I can think in terms beyond that. Totally outside my scope of knowledge, you know?"

Jay's smile faded. That was an awfully strange way to say that he's not a queer. "Knowledge has nuthin' ta do with it, Forge," Jay informed him. "There ain't no book out there on what ta do when ya fall in love. Well, there're a bunch of shitty self-help books, but they won't teach ya nuthin'. Sometimes all ya can do is follow your heart, as frightenin' and awful as that sounds."

"I know," Forge sighed. "And... there's no way to say this without sounding like a total shit, is there? I... you..." he pointed between the two of them. "It's not there. I don't know if I feel that way about anyone - as much as I admire your sister, I know it's just a stupid crush. Logically? Jesus, Jay. I can't think of any reason NOT to totally fall for you. But... whatever sparks that? If I could make it be there, I would."

"Ya wouldn't care ta even try it out for a little while, see what happens?" Jay almost pleaded before snorting derisively and shaking his head. "Don't answer that. Dumb question."

"I... okay, the best I can say?" Forge offered, "You're too important to me to fuck this up, Jay. If I ever... you know, if something were to come up, you'd be the first to know."

He let that hang quiet in the air, then sighed deeply and punched the mattress with his good hand. "Sometimes honesty sucks."

"No, Ah know whatcha mean, man," he said, a very small smile tugging at his lips. "Ah'm sorry for puttin' ya on the spot like that. But ya left yourself wide open, y'know. Might want ta pick your words more carefully next time," he teased.

"No shit," Forge mused, absently picking at a thread on his sling. "It worried me, you know?" he added quietly. "The... not feeling anything more. It's like, everywhere you go here, you can't get away from it. Shiro and Clarice, Doug and Marie-Ange, Mr. Summers and Dr. Grey," he added the last with a tone of incredulity. "Dr. McCoy and Dr. Bartlett. Alex and Ms. Dane. Doc Moira and Mr. D. It's like everywhere you go, there's this ... I don't know, it's this thing I see everyone else having and I just can't understand, you know? Even Manuel has Amanda."

"Terry and Ah were sayin' the same thing not two weeks ago," Jay said, unable to hide a brief chuckle. "But Forge, you're still missin' the point. Missin' the point is the point. Nobody knows why they fall in love with the people they do. Ah could rattle off a whole list of things that make me attracted to ya, but that doesn't mean that Ah'll comprehend why Ah'm even attracted to those factors in the first place."

"But you know that you are, that you're capable of it." Forge insisted. "I think... I know I haven't had that. It's why... I might not understand exactly how you feel, but I know I envy it."

He hid his face behind his hand for a moment, then let out a growl of frustration. "That probably sounds so damn stupid. Here I am giving you the big letdown, and telling you I envy you for it. Ass, thy name is John Henry Forge."
"Sucks bein' a genius, don't it?" Jay chided Forge, grinning wryly. "All Ah can say is that it'll come. Ya can't rush it or expect it ta make it happen. When it comes it'll come, and you'll meet it when it does. Ah'm positive you'll find someone who stimulates you in the right way. Girl or boy folk."

"Yeah," Forge agreed. "Hope it doesn't take forever. Or I'll be reduced to sitting in my room writing angsty country music and wailing about my misfortune and, oh wait, I'm sorry, that schtick's trademarked, isn't it?" he joked with a smile indicating that he was in no way sorry.

"Fucker." But Jay grinned anyway. "First, it ain't angsty, it's melancholy. Big difference. And second, Ah don't wail. Ah . . . bemoan."

"Right, you bemoan," Forge agreed, still picking idly at the edge of the bandages on his arm, then looking over at Jay's wings. "So you well enough to fly yet?"

"So they say. Haven't tried ta yet, though. Wings're still a little sore from not movin' much for over a month." Jay shrugged, briefly glancing over his shoulder at his wings. He was kind of longing to fly, he had to admit

Sitting up, Forge rolled to his feet, flexing his knees with an odd stereo effect of popping cartilage and whining motors. "Tell you what. I'm heading out of town for a while tomorrow - Doctor McCoy's asked me to kind of chaperone Jubilee on a road trip. Shouldn't be gone more than a week and a half. I get back, you ought to be airborne by then. We'll celebrate or something." He shrugged, doing a small doubletake at the miniscule motion in his left shoulder. "Friends, you know?"

"Of course, dude." Jay put a hand on Forge's good shoulder and squeezed, resisting the urge to kiss him again (just a peck on the cheek, swear!). "Have fun on your trip. Don't do nuthin' Ah wouldn't."

"I'm beginning to think that leaves a whole lot open for exploration," Forge quipped, smiling widely. "Well, I mean... thanks. For being cool about everything."

"Well, what fun would a road trip be with inhibitions?" Stuffing his hands in his pockets, Jay smiled. "Thank you for not flippin' out like a loon and assertin' your het'rosexuality. Ah appreciate everythin' ya said."

"Of course," Forge replied, thumbing the remote that brought his suitcase crawling out from under the bed. "I save the flipping out for real crisis moments. Like Jamie eating the last of the Chocolate Frosted Sugar Bombs and leaving the box in the cupboard."

"You've got your priorities straight. Good quality ta have." Jay got up from his bed, feeling significantly better but not without a touch of heartbreak that he knew would fade in time. On the plus side, at least Forge didn't beat him up for kissing him.

"Besides," Forge explained, walking into his half of the suite and tossing clothes at the suitcase that was following him like a puppy. "I get to drive Dr. McCoy's convertible. How cool is that?"