Jake, Jeanne-Marie, and Jean-Paul

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Jake and Jean-Paul have a morning-after Talk, which is interrupted by Jeanne-Marie. Awkwardness ensues.



Jean-Paul was fairly sure that he had not actually fallen asleep on top of Jake. From their position, in fact, he suspect burrowing. A plus, though...he'd slept through from whenever they had finally fallen asleep until morning. Which meant he might have the fortitude to face the morning's awkwardness.

"Mmmph. Jake. Sun's coming up."

"That means we don' hafta geddup for coupla hours," came the sleepily pathetic reply from beneath him as an arm curled more tightly around his back. "G'back t'sleep."

"It means my sister is already awake and in the kitchen. But she should hold off until she thinks I am awake. She likes me to get my rest." Jean-Paul tugged Jake's hair lightly. "Besides, we need to talk."

The mention of Jeanne-Marie was enough to start pulling Jake towards full consciousness; he'd forgotten about her, and a brief jolt of panic shot through him at the notion that she was here before his memory caught up with the present situation. And was followed very quickly by another jolt of panic at the thought of Talking, and the realization that he'd very neatly pinned himself underneath Jean-Paul.

Deeply ingrained diversionary tactics kicked in. "These cheerful early bird tendencies are genetic, aren't they?" he sighed, aiming for teasing. He angled for a kiss even as his hand slid down Jean-Paul's back to caress his hip. "How long until she figures out you're awake?"
he murmured against the speedster's lips.

Jean-Paul drew back enough to lay one finger against Jake's lips. "Not long enough for you to stall. Jake. I just...don't want us to wind up where we were before, all right?"

The look on the other man's face was stern enough to keep Jake from trying to catch the finger in his mouth. He closed his eyes briefly, trying to fight down the trapped, panicked sensation that was rising in his chest. "And where was that?"

Jean-Paul combed his fingers through Jake's hair. "With me hoping that you would come around to the idea of something more committed, and you hoping I would suffer very specific amnesia."

"I don't suppose you have?" Jake asked halfheartedly, cracking one eye to glance at Jean-Paul--and that was something of a mistake, as the look on his face was enough to send the panic fluttering against his ribcage like a bird trying to escape. He squeezed his eyes shut again. "I need to roll over."

Jean-Paul frowned, but shifted enough to let Jake sit up. "I am not asking you for anything more. Especially considering that I was the one who broke...whatever we had off. Just...I want to know what this means. If anything."

Breathing room helped, enough at least to realize was that some of the panic was paradoxically caused by his panic at feeling trapped. That was new. He ran a hand through his hair, elbows propped on his knees, trying not to think about the implications of what that might mean.

"I don't know, Jean-Paul," he admitted quietly. "It's not nothing. But I think it's fair to say that I'm having some trust and intimacy issues right now, thanks to things that have absolutely nothing to do with you." He took a deep breath, then let himself flop backwards until he was lying next to Jean-Paul again, although he kept his eyes fixed on the ceiling. "I'm sorry. And I understand if you need me to leave you alone."

Jean-Paul shook his head. "Just so long as I know not to hope for anything more, it is all right." He started to say more, but the doorknob turned before he could quite form a sentence. Three thoughts zipped through Jean-Paul's mind -- he and Jake were both covered up, more or less; the two of them had the habit of biting the hell out of each other in bed; he, not being the one who had control over his body at a cellular level, was covered with a fantastic series of bite marks from the shoulders down. Jean-Paul pulled the sheets up to his chest and attempted to use Jake as a shield as the door opened.

Given the rough start on the night of her arrival, Jeanne-Marie had already settled in fairly quickly, fully occupied by the task of spoiling her brother through his recovery and fully content with that. Familiar meals and company could not put his recent difficulties to rest, but they could certainly do no harm and it was good to keep herself occupied too. She balanced a carefully prepared breakfast tray in one hand, topped with strawberry crepes with powdered sugar and tea enough for two (though Jean-Paul and his bedmate had not been the two she'd had in mind), and turned the doorknob with the other as she granted herself uninvited entry. He would be up by now. "Bonjour, brother. I come bearing gi--"

Two occupants in the room had been unexpected. Two nude men sharing one lightly-colored sheet was enough to make the woman jump, a small awkward gasp finding its way from her lips as she dropped the tray and scattered its sweet contents along the carpet. The expression on her face was almost enough to make it funny. Almost. "D-ésolée!" She began to turn in thoughtless retreat, cheeks flushed. Jean-Paul had not mentioned a partner.

Jake had shot bolt upright as the door opened, then found himself half-sprawling as Jean-Paul used him for cover, off-balance and unable to recover thanks to missing an arm. He'd almost forgotten the possibility that Jeanne-Marie might be in the suite, and he still expected her to come at them both with a knife.

Except that this woman didn't look like the type to start swinging; instead, she looked terrified and embarrassed. Jake blinked at her, jaw slack, as he finally managed to get his arm around to catch himself on Jean-Paul's knees. "What--"

Jean-Paul cleared his throat over Jake's shoulder as he groped for the unused blanket at the foot of the bed.

"I can explain this. Jake, this is Jeanne-Marie, my sister. Jeanne-Marie, this is Jake my..." Partner? Lover? Paramour? "...my..." Ex-Not-Boyfriend? Squeak toy? Utter confoundification? "All right, so I cannot explain it. But anyway, this is Jake."

The woman kept her back to them, but her discomfort radiated out plainly as she nodded along with Jean-Paul's introduction and attempted explanation. The fact that he could not even put a name to it only made Jeanne-Marie's cheeks redder. He was not her twin's partner. "...Your Jake, then," she concluded simply with no thought to the way it sounded. She steadied her voice and her startled senses with effort. "Je suis enchantée de faire votre connaissance."

"Heureux de te rencontrer," he mumbled in return, not bothering to tamp down the blush turning his own cheeks and ears red. He righted himself carefully, not quite sure what exactly one was supposed to say when being introduced to the crazy sister of his...whatever.

The ruins of Jean-Paul's breakfast caught his eye. "I seem to be the death of pastries lately," he lamented quietly, scratching at the back of his head, not noticing that his movements had pushed the sheet lower.

"Jeanne-Marie, perhaps we can continue introductions when Jacob and I have dressed? I will see to the mess." Jean-Paul was having to fight the urge to further explain things, but there was no profit at all to prolonging this agonizingly awkward moment.

Jeanne-Marie frowned faintly at the mention of breakfast. That had been almost the last of the powdered sugar. She looked down and back briefly, intending only to survey the damage, but caught a bit more of Jake and bit less of his misplaced blanket than she had wished to. She jumped and turned around stiffly again. It was impossible not to remember her schooling, girls
holding their hands out to the wrath of rulers for seeing far less of young men than she just had. She flexed her hands restlessly. "Oui. I am sorry for the mess. Should I meet you in the kitchen?"

"Yes, but do not worry about cooking breakfast." Her brother tried for a smile. "Consider it my penance for wasting the first one?"

Jean-Paul all but melted in relief as she finally nodded and left the room, closing the door behind her. He flopped back down onto his pillows. "Well...that could have gone worse. Somehow."

No one got stabbed, Jake thought, and then followed that thought up with another dozen ways things could have been worse, but mercifully he didn't voice any of them. "So," he said instead, moving to gather up the clothes on the floor, "that's your sister. She's...not what I expected."

He stretched, idly wondering what her reaction would be to him walking into the next room with both arms. "Maybe you should go out there first."

Jean-Paul was already dressed and trying to straighten his hair. "I think explanations will go more smoothly with everyone involved fully clothed, yes." He paused. "And just what did you expect of my sister?"

Jake frowned at his clothes, not sure how they'd managed to get so tangled. "All I know about her are your scars," he said finally, not looking at Jean-Paul.

"Ah. Yes. Point." Jean-Paul cleared his throat, then moved to give Jake a hand with his clothes. "I will let her know," he said with all seriousness, "that 'my Jake' has had a very rough time lately and there is to be no stabbing of him."

Jake blushed again at the term, ducking his head. "Thanks. I think." He took his clothes from Jean-Paul and pulled him down for a kiss. "I can get this. Go ahead; I'll catch up in a minute. I've got some things to take care of first," he shrugged his empty shoulder for emphasis. "I promise not to climb out the window."