Log: Forge and Jay, Sunday evening

[x-forge.livejournal.com]

Sunday evening, Forge goes to Jay to finally come clean about the whole I'm A Great Big Dork Who Likes Your Sister Don't Punch Me Please issue. He brings a gift to smooth things over, and the entire conversation goes better than anticipated. At least, there's no punching.



Forge walked into the common room of his suite, tucking the large case
under one arm. On the one hand, he felt pretty good - that feeling he
enjoyed when doing something for one of his friends. On the other,
well, lousy would have been an understatement.

Taking a deep breath, he composed himself and rapped his knuckles on
Jay's door, leaning the case against the wall. "Hey Jay," he called,
"You decent? Or at least clothed?"

"Ah'm wearin' shorts," Jay called through his door, getting to his
feet to grab his jeans from the floor and quickly pull them on. "And
now Ah've got pants," he said, opening the door for Forge. "What's
that?"

Smiling awkwardly, Forge lifted the case and handed it to Jay. "It's
for you. I was... I mean, I had the time and I thought you'd like it.
I know I've been kind of a jerk since... well, you know. And I thought
you'd appreciate it."

Jay accepted the case and stepped aside so Forge could come in. "What?
You ain't done nuthin', man." Nothing recently, at least. But June was
a long time ago. Or so he had to tell himself. Jay carefully laid the
case on his bed and opened it. "Holy shit . . ." he gasped. "Forge,
you . . . didja make this?"

"Took a lot of research," Forge explained, standing next to Jay and
looking down at the maplewood finish of the guitar. "I took some tapes
of your performances down to the lab and went into how you play, and I
think this can put out the sound you're looking for. See, your voice
can do the whole multiple sounds thing. And so I designed a guitar
that can do something similar. Look," he pointed out a few
subtly-designed switches near the bottom of the fretboard, "these are
basically an electronic record and replay function. It'll accompany
your playing, adding in a rhythm guitar part, or a bassline, depending
on how you set it."

"This is . . . dang, Forge." Jay picked up the guitar gently, almost
afraid that it would break if he held it too tightly. "This is
awesome. Makes me a one-man band, don't it? Ah don't know what ta say,
'cept thanks."

Forge paused for a while, then nodded and sat down on the edge of
Jay's desk. "It's just... okay, I know you were kind of bummed out
when you told me you, well, had feelings for me and I didn't
reciprocate. And I didn't think too much of it until, well, now I know
how you must have felt and I'm sorry."

"What'cha mean?" Jay asked, taking a seat next to Forge. He couldn't
be talking about Paige. Forge had admitted that his attraction to
Paige was just a silly crush, nothing big to get excited about. Did he
like someone else and hadn't told Jay?

Sighing, Forge leaned back, thumping his head against the wall. "I was
talking to your brother the other day, about how he still kind of
carries a torch for Miss Blaire, but knows that she's happy with Mr.
al-Rashid, so he did the right thing, helping out Haroun when he
needed it. I..." Oh boy, now he's going to punch me, "that's
pretty much why I did this for Jono. For Paige."

Jay looked like he'd heard that his puppy had just died. Or more
accurately, that someone had taken his guitar and all the lyrics he'd
ever written and thrown them in a fire. "What? B-but Ah thought you .
. . Ah mean, Ah know you had a thing for mah sister, but it's like
that?" The guitar fell from his hands, and he just barely caught it
before it hit the floor.

"It's like that," Forge agreed sadly. "And I've got to do the best I
can to get over it. Because as much as I want to be the one making her
happy, it's just not going to happen. I mean, she's head over heels
for Jono." Forge looked disdainfully down at his hand and leg.
"And as luck would have it, the unforeseen side effect of
getting him his body back wound up making him whole again, so there
goes any chance for lucky comparison I might have on that score."

He made a small whimpering noise in his throat, smacking his thigh
with his fist. "I wish I could just... turn this off, or disconnect
it, or make it make sense somehow. But it doesn't, and I can't, and it
sucks."

"Ah know whatcha mean," Jay muttered roughly. "Ya like someone, maybe
even love 'em, and ya tell them so, and then ya see it doesn't go both
ways. So then ya hope beyond hope that maybe, just maybe they're lyin'
ta themselves, y'know? That they do love ya back, even if just a wee
bit. And ya dream that they'll come to ya one day and say so." He
avoided looking at Forge, afraid of what Forge would do and afraid
that he himself would say or do something really dumb.

Closing his eyes, Forge nodded. "I know that now. I mean, I knew it
intellectually before, you know? In theory. But the reality of it...
does it always hurt like this? Knowing you're doing the right thing
and you still don't get what you want?"

"You've no clue how many times Ah wanted to talk to you again, ta kiss
you, ta see iffn you'd changed your mind," Jay admitted softly,
fighting the urge to curl up into a ball like he did whenever he spoke
of painful matters of the heart. "For the longest time Ah wanted ta
pretend that you were just playin' a game with me."

"I think I have a clue now," Forge said, looking at the floor. "I
mean, it's horrible of me, but part of me wanted the experiment not to
work. For there to be some closure, that maybe she'd look at me like
she looks at him - but it's like there was just this giant change, you
know? She saw him there, and it's like everything that's been broken
in her these past months finally started to turn around. It's... she
saw him there and she was happy. Like I've never seen her. And
all I could think about was that it wasn't me. Does that make me a
horrible person?"

"It makes you a fella in love," Jay replied without missing a beat.
His tone was adamant, too. For all his angst and griping and moaning,
Jay is ultimately a romantic to the nth degree. "Ah don't believe in
many things, but Ah've been in love and know how it is. Ah'm sorry
that'cha don't get ta feel it. The teachers've been tellin' me all
about karma and stuff cuz of Coma Boy down in the medlab, but if it
really existed, then Paige'd be yours now. Sucks."

"Maybe your brother's right," Forge said quietly. "She's happy. And I
should be thankful for that, that I got to at least be a part of
giving her this." He let out a long breath, looking down at his hands.
"I just hope I can figure out how."

Jay shrugged. "Ah dunno. Can't say Ah really know much about her and
Jono and what they've been through. Maybe they'll be closer'n ever,
maybe Jono don't feel strongly for her anymore, maybe Angelo'll come
back and everythin'll get fucked up. But you know Ah'm for ya, right?
If ya need anythin' at all. Anything."

Forge sniffed, wiping his nose with his sleeve. "That means a lot,
thanks. I mean, I'd fully understand if you thought this was some kind
of karmic justice, or laughed at me, or hated me - you're a better
friend than I deserve, Jay."

Truth was, Jay did want to hate Forge. He was hurt. The man he
agonized over for so long wasn't only in love with a woman, but with
Jay's sister. There were a thousand crappy similes that Jay could use
to describe the way his heart felt for this confession.

But Forge was his friend, his closest friend, and he loved him
platonically if not romantically. "Ah don't suppose this means Ah've
got a chance with you now, does it?" Jay tried to joke, although he
sounded more sad than jovial.

"I should start a bidding process," Forge joked, finally cracking a
smile. "You know, to be fair. Prospective suitors can submit a
contract, get it approved by committee, meet the parents, et
cetera..."

"Hmm. Ah like the et cetera part," Jay said, brightening ever so
slightly, pleased that Forge wasn't totally wallowing in self-pity.
"Ah've already met your Pa. And you said yourself Ah'm a good catch."
He placed a hand on Forge's shoulder and squeezed. "Paige is a great
gal, that's for sure. But you'll feel better in time."

"Can I just skip ahead to that part? Because this?" Forge shrugged,
feeling at least somewhat reassured by Jay's presence. "Keeps
reminding me why I usually like machines better than people."

"When you find your match, you'll be eatin' those words," Jay
guaranteed. "'Til then, well, you can just continue ta make me pretty
things."

Forge reached across his body, clasping Jay's hand and giving it a
quick squeeze. "Deal."