Mark & Jay, Sunday evening

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Jay takes a trip to Manhattan to apologize to Mark for his attitude, and ends up getting quite an eyeful.


He was pretty sure he got the right place, the right number that was scratched out in pen on the soft skin between his thumb and index finger. Flying under the cover of the night was the best for him. Daylight was still something he was adjusting to, getting used to being stared at in a different manner though he knew that eventually he would have to ignore the eyes that followed him. It was that or spend another couple of years reliving his earlier teenaged years when he manifested and honestly, Jay just didn't want to do that anymore. He didn't like who it made him and he didn't want excuses anymore. He just wanted to be over.

That was why he was here, right? At the Snow Valley brownstone, knocking on Mark’s door. It was awkward to be here, seeking him out like this but he felt ignoring it was running from it and he had to face the people he scared eventually.

Knocking again, his wings folded up in his back, disappearing into the black hoodie that he wore and Jay consciously pulled the hooded part down, well aware that his blue skin stood out like a beacon under the red hair. As if he couldn't clash anymore, thank god it was night.

Sounds of moaning followed by the thump of a fallen body and muffled cursing could be heard from behind the door. "I'll be there in a sec, Jubes!" Mark called, and a few seconds later the door opened to reveal the young man, hair ruffled, shirt disheveled, and pants unbuttoned and unzipped. "I was just jerk . . . ed out of a deep sleep," he hastily amended upon seeing that his visitor was not, in fact, his dinner date. "Jay. Hi. What's up?"

He opened his mouth to say something paused, snapped it shut before giving Mark a curious look. "Were you....?" With Jubilee? Ugh, he didn't want to even go there and pulled back in his posture, brows creasing, giving Mark an easy smile. "Yanno Ah can come back later," he gestured over his shoulder like he had a cab to take.

Anyone with even an ounce of propriety would have the decency to be embarrassed at this situation. Mark, however, was proprietally bankrupt. "No no, she and I want to go check out this new pho place that sprung up in Mutant Town of all places. I thought you were her. I was just getting ready for dinner. Uh, come in." He stepped aside to let his winged friend enter, and almost as an afterthought zipped up his jeans.

Jay's eyes fell to the zipper. "Yeah... dinner." Right. At least his libido didn't die. Hesitating at the door, Jay was slightly flustered at the obvious situation. He'd never crossed that threshold with thoughts about Mark and it felt weird to do so now. It was either stand here like an idiot or go inside and he found himself walking into the room , taking in Mark's living habits immediately.

"Nice."

"Rule number seventeen, never sleep with your co-workers." Mark headed over to the bathroom to brush his hair, aware of the eyes on him but feeling it better to let that slide. He didn't need to be nearly dismembered by those metal wings again. "Especially if you live near them. Life's awkward and difficult enough without adding anything like that to the mix. So what brings you all the way down here?"

He would have asked what the first sixteen rules were but with Mark, he didn't want to know. Picking at a fluff off a nearby chair, Jay dusted it off before flickering his gaze to Mark's brush and hair folicles in it before speaking. "Ah came to say sorry, yanno, for being a crazy when you came to visit."

Satisfied that he was presentable to the outside world, Mark came back out to the common room. "Apology accepted. Thanks. Death does funny things to normally rational people sometimes."

"Yeah, you should know. You've been dead or thought dead... or somethin'," he said unsure of how accurate he was. It was easy to confuse what happened ot who in the mansion, mostly because he wasn't all that keen on paying a hundred percent of his attention on the journal system.

"Let's just say I was stuck in Hell for a few days." Simple explanations were the best. Mark sniffed his shirt, frowned, and peeled it off as he headed to his bedroom to find a suitable replacement. "So you're feeling more sane now? Had an epiphany?"

His cheeks puffed out, blowing out a sigh at the sight and ran a hand through his hair, turning around so Mark could have his privacy. "No, not really. Kane beat the tar outta me with his new powers and Dani finished the job. It's like dying on a whole new level." He swallowed and glanced over his shoulder, catching the hint of flesh before looking away. So predatory instincts were supposably under controll, why was he salivating?

Since Jay didn't seem particularly put off by that event, Mark wagered he wouldn't get impaled for pursuing it. It was nice to not have to constantly walk on eggshells. "What'd they do? And more importantly, why?"

He grabbed onto the topic, only because it provided a decent distraction from what was going on behind him. "Ah dunno why they did it. Cause Ah needed it? Ah've been wantin' to talk to Kane for awhile and just, shit came out about dyin'. Ah didn't feel like Ah should be livin'. Three times Ah was suppose to die and didn't. Four times if ya count gettin' sick and stuff. It just didn't feel right, yanno? So Kane and Ah had a talk." Aka Kane was trying to kill him but he didn't think Mark would understand that, so he left it out. "Ah got a little outta control," also not true.

"And uh... Dani cut in. She sorta brought everything Ah should live for up front. Got a real personal look at mah life. She did somethin' - Ah dunno what - made me feel better. Ah can sleep at night now." Jay shrugged and turned around, assuming that Mark was fully dressed.

Mark came out of his room, throwing a keffiyeh-styled scarf around his neck. "Fuck, I could've told you you deserve to live," he teased gently. "But Garrison's in a better position for you. Dani, too. I'm glad you three, er, talked it over. You're lookin' better, too. I missed your smile."

Where Jay would have once blushed and leaned into that suggestively, now he only stared at Mark with a vague suspicion, studying Mark's face and trying to judge if he was sincere and not trying to smooth things over with a compliment. But then, this was Mark. Of course he was sincere, but Jay passed off the compliment, merely acknowledging it with just that, a smile. "Yeah, Ah'm glad Ah have 'em. What about you? What's going on with Silver?"

"We moved, for one. Not too far away, but there's a noticeable change. Fewer college kids, more mutants. Few reasons for that, I think, but it's making me alter my style and change is scary." Mark leaned against the half-wall separating the room from the kitchen, and finally got the chance to really look at the new new Jay, blue-skinned and metal-winged but not out for blood. Even though he didn't physically look any different than last time, the change in the way Jay held himself was obvious. That alone made Mark more relaxed.

He noticed Mark was studying him, taking in the wings and he wondered if last time Mark even got a good look at him. Probably not. It was darker in that room, no mirrors, hollow. Mark's room was basic, nothing to brag about but there was an silent invitation to sit, make yourself feel welcome and just enjoy, even if he had been in his room, stroking himself.

He hesitated to sit on the couch, glancing to the bed from where he stood in the common room, to see how tangled the sheets were before he decided that the bedroom was where Mark had probably been and took a seat. Propping his elbows on his knees, he picked up a CD and toyed with it. "So what's your style like now?" he asked, even though he didn't want to talk about music much, he couldn't help but rise to it.

"There's a demand for big beats and heavy riffs, more rock than Euroclub. A more American sound, I'm noticing." A distinctly mutant sound, with more discordance and lyrics about being different and rebelling. "The remixes I've made of your songs have been a hit," Mark hazarded, unsure how Jay still felt about his supposedly failed dreams.

It was a sore spot, but he was interested in the new stuff and knowing about it until the mention of his CDs. It was an immediate downer and his eyes fell to the disk in his hands, staring at it intently before he set it down. "Maybe we shouldn't talk about music okay?" His voice changed, wavered and he stood up, fixing the hem of his black hoodie around his waistline. "Sorry, maybe Ah should go. You're about to have dinner and Ah don't wanna intrupt nothin'."

Dammit. So much for that. Mark reached up to put a comforting hand on the taller man's shoulder. "Jay, wait. I'm sorry. That was insensitive. You don't have to leave. Why don't you come out with us? It's pho. Pho is delicious. Pho makes everyone feel good."

Jay bowed his head and ran a hand down his face , trying to physically wipe the frown that was there and replaced it with a warm smile. "Don't be sorry. It's a life change. Ah just gotta get use to it. Ah'll pass on the food and the others. Ah just wanted to hang with you." He took Mark's hand from his shoulder, the texture in skin very apparent but he ignored it. Or tried to. His hand squeezed Mark's and his wings shifted out, getting ready to leave.

"We'll hang another time."

Mark squeezed back, the sandpapery texture of Jay's hand not bothering him at all. "Damn right we will. And you know, we still need another bartender . . ."

Removing his hand, he smiled down at Mark. "Yeah, Ah know." He drew his hoodie up, covering his head and shadowing his eyes. Raising his blue hand, his fingers brushed Mark's cheekbone with a pinch, winking before he turned to head out.

"At least some things don't change," Mark said to himself with a smile.