xp_logs | Strange Comfort: Manuel, Jake & Jean-Paul (Reply)

Manuel runs into Jake at five in the morning and snark is exchanged before one conceeds and an offer is made.

An early morning reprieve from his sister's emotional rollercoaster during her dreamstate was required and though he stepped out into the hallway,looking for that peace of mind, Manuel found the company of his sister's emotions perferable compared to the onsought of anxiety that swept through the mansion. He sighed and walked down the hallway like an aparation, white tshirt against white pants, picking up any light that he seemed to pass. Barefoot, he paded past Jean-Paul's door, though curiously, he felt such gripping emotions eminating from Jake's signature within that it was difficult to ignore. Jake was not usually as loud as he made himself out to be, though this morning, he was particularly a bundle of emotions none within the mansion would want to be.

The door to Jean-Paul's suite opened then, revealing an exhausted and tousel-headed Jake. While he was getting a better quality of sleep with Jean-Paul than at home, he certainly wasn't improving on his quantity of sleep, especially piled atop the physical and emotional
hangover of Geneva. The door had closed behind him before he realized that he wasn't alone in the hallway, and he started, his head whipping around to look at the pale figure watching him.

His first instinct was to flee back into Jean-Paul's, but he hesitated, not wanting to bring any more trouble through the speedster's door. "Out for a morning stroll?" he asked finally, his voice still rough from sleep.

"Something to that effect," he replied evenly, eyes scaling up Jake's body as if the colours in his vision would give away the reasons behind his skiddish behavior. "You look tired. Five am is hardly the time to be leaving your ... lovers quarters." His eyebrow raised with speculation.

Jake snorted, taking in the cane and the awkward way Manuel was propped up against it. "You used to be better at fishing for information," he said dismissively, not interested in trying to define things with de la Rocha when he couldn't define them with Jean-Paul. He stepped away from the door, not wanting to involve the speedster in their conversation, and too tired to bother keeping the snark from his voice. "So is this what you do now? Skulk the halls in an attempt to discover who's sleeping with whom?"

"Secretly, I hang out by Jean-Paul's door and try to guess who will come out of it first, you or another man," he countered. "The results are interesting." He left Jake at the top of the stairs and began to descend, though clearly his steps down were slow. "You use to have
class. What happened? Did someone strip your title away?" he asked.

That caused a slight flinch, salt rubbed in wounds that were still raw, even coming on the heels of Manuel's laughable insinuation that Jean-Paul might be sleeping with anyone else. "Nothing's changed but the name of my employer," he said flatly. God, he was far too tired to go toe to toe with Manuel. "Regardless, it's better than never having any class to begin with, de la Rocha." He spat the name out like a curse.

"Yes and you would know that now, would you not?" he shot back. "Clearly you have changed, or you would not be so snarky at such an ungodly hour." Snark was never met kindly from him, even when he was clearly attempting restraint with the others, Jake knew him better than that.

"It's five in the fucking morning, and I've had just enough coffee to know I'm going to want to shoot myself when I hit commuter traffic," Jake shot back. "Snark is the only thing available in my arsenal right now. Besides, you started it," he finished sullenly.

Manuel stopped at the bottom of the stairs, leaning against the bannister for support and he gazed up at Jake. "Yes, you are right. I did start it and it was unwarrented. I apologize."

Jake rubbed a hand over his face, trying to kick-start his brain, and then abruptly descended the stairs with a loose-limbed grace that belied the other man's stiffness. He came to a halt just as abruptly, as if he were trying to keep himself from pitching forward once he hit
the bottom of the stairs. "What happened to your leg?" His voice was laced with simple curiosity; he'd heard somewhere about the cane, but not about whatever incident was behind the need for it.

"My hip," he corrected and resisted the urge to press a hand to Jake's chest, simply to keep him steady. "I was hit by a truck and put into a coma for two years. The window for healing such a fracture is very small, therefore, the cane is now my companion." With one hand holding
the bannister, he held up the cane and turned the sterling silver wolf head that stood proud on an ebony wooden staff. Everything about the cane defined class and wealth. "Marie Ange gave it to me for my birthday. I never doubt her taste."

"I'm told you're not supposed to do that--get hit by a truck, I mean," Jake said idly as he bent forward to get a closer look at the cane. "Something about it being bad for your health." He glanced back up at Manuel then, straightening. "It's gorgeous. And suits you." This time he did a better job keeping the snark from his voice.

"Thank you. I keep it as a reminder of what I was and what I do not want to become." His smile was brief. "Remy enjoys keeping me on a short, tight leash and I am obliged to follow when he pulls. You of all people know how easy it is to slip." And the slope was very slippery indeed.

Jake blinked at that. "I do?" And too late realized that he shouldn't have asked.

"Jake Gavin, you do realize that I am still as healthy and active in feeling your emotions yes?" No, he probably shouldn't have asked though Manuel was giving him a way out if he needed it.

"I..." He tilted his head, frowning at Manuel. As good as his shields were against telepaths, they were nothing against empaths, and that uncomfortably raw feeling crept over him again. "I'm not...slipping."

"Not slipping, but slipped," he supplied. "You are overburdened. I am surprised to see that you have not surrcombed to everything that you carry." Though he didn't know what Jake carried specifically, he could see that burdens of worry, fear and other negative emotions hung over the shapeshifter like a dark cloud. "You paint a poor smile over your exhaustion."

Jake froze, head still tilted, the denial on his lips dying before it ever found voice. Because for fuck's sake it was five in the morning and Manuel was a goddamned empath and--at this very moment, at least--seemed to know Jake better than Jake knew himself. "And what am I supposed to do about that, exactly?" he asked, frustrated.

Manuel's hand took Jake's face in it and turned it to a particular angle, judging like he would to a costly breed of a horse he was about to purchase. The hand released Jake before he could protest and Manuel took his cane in the appropriate hand, bearing his weight down on it as he made his judgement. "You do not sleep enough, therefore, you could start there."

Jake flinched away violently as the hand left his face. "Sleep?" he asked incredulously, his hand coming up to rub at his mouth, to keep physical distance between himself and Manuel. He rolled his eyes. "That's the best you and your powers can come up with. Well done."

"Spare me your sarcasm. Would you prefer I dissect your fear or that underlying guilt overshadowing your anxiety? Or would you simply care for assistance to sleep that would aliviate those for a night?" Manuel replied, curt in his tone. "Considering your current mood, I would consider the offer - they do not come often. Even Amanda and Wanda know their limits."

Jake swallowed his retort, eying Manuel warily. "What are you suggesting?" he asked instead, weariness in his voice.

"Temporary relief from your turmoil." There was a glint in his eye, a faint knowing smile twitched at the corner of his mouth. "You have no reason to trust me Jake. However, emotional exhaustion breeds desperation. The offer stands if you should change your mind."

It was tempting. God, it was tempting. Respite from the gnawing fears that kept him awake at night, from his mother's words echoing through his brain whenever he had a quiet moment. But at the same time, it was Manuel de la fucking Rocha standing there looking like the devil at
the crossroads, a contract in his hand. "How do I know you're not going to..." Make it worse? he thought sarcastically.

"You do not know." He turned from Jake and started walking down the hallway towards the kitchen, intent on getting what he needed and going back upstairs. Emotional reprieve would have to wait. "Taking the hand of trust is a difficult step. I expected no less."

Jake sat down heavily on the stairs; he was still sitting there when Manuel returned several minutes later. "I'm really tired," he admitted quietly, eyes focused on his clasped hands.

The glass was set aside and though it was rare and difficult for Manuel to crouch down, he did so, gripping the wolf head until his knuckles whitened. His strain was apparent, but the stretch in the back lengthened and it gave him a tolerant moment to lift his hand and brush his thumb down Jake's temple. Jake jerked his head away and Manuel hesitated, holding his gaze
until he made the attempt at the contact again, drawing out a faint emotion immediately and replacing it only a fraction with something akin to relief.

A soft moan escaped from Jake's lips. There was a part of him that wanted to push Manuel away and run, that thought this was one of the more stupid things he'd done lately. The part that was currently basking in relief, however, pointed out quite sensibly that he'd done several stupid things in the last week, and one more couldn't hurt. And it was all moot, either way, as Manuel continued to do whatever it is he was doing.

In this position, it made it a struggle and his hand drew away, only to grab Jake's shoulder in a grip that said he was in pain at this position and his balance was off. He used that shoulder to help him up with the cane and released Jake immediately. The contact of relief Jake felt lingered but it wasn't strong and it was only for a few moments.

"If you can attain a guest room, find me in three hours, otherwise, it can be done in my suite but here, this is not easily done at the bottom of the stairs and you would feel better if you were laying down."

"First one's free," Jake mumbled, laughing softly at his own joke before it occurred to him that maybe he shouldn't piss Manuel off. "I can stay in Jean-Paul's room," he said, sobering somewhat, rolling his shoulders to work the tension out once Manuel let go.

"I will be there in three hours." Manuel picked up his glass and walked around Jake, heading up the stairs. "Have faith Jake. I am only the advocate now, not the devil himself."

---

Jake and Jean-Paul talk while waiting. Manuel arrives and dinner is offered with the agreement that nothing leaves the room.

Jake settled against the headboard, taking the chamomile tea Jean-Paul held out to him. He'd been fairly quiet since returning back to Jean-Paul's suite, having pulled the speedster back to bed for a restless hour of dozing before allowing himself to be coaxed out of bed for breakfast. Now, though, as Manuel's arrival drew near, he allowed himself to voice his fears.

"Is this a bad idea?" he asked, frowning into his mug.

"There are ways it could be, depending on if you are speaking of the act itself or who is performing it." Jean-Paul was still dressed for the morning work-out that he hadn't ever gotten around to when Jake had returned. "But no, I do not think so. Bluntly, you need more sleep than you are getting and even if you can only get this one day, it is better than nothing. As for Manuel, I cannot say that I have a clue as to his motives, but I do not think he means to do you harm. Give the man credit for a good deed, if nothing else." A slight smile. "And I do not think he will allow himself to be habit-forming. He seems to
reserve that for Cammie these days."

Jake nodded mutely, then looked up sharply at that last part. "Wait, are they..." He trailed off, blinking. "I hadn't realized they were still--I thought it was just that one time." He snorted. "Great. Now Manuel's going to walk in, and all I can think about is him having
sex. I'm sure he'll be amused."

"And just to make your life more difficult, she described him as a 'Spanish squeak toy' when asked for details. I confess, that did nearly finish the job of breaking my brain." Jean-Paul smirked and stole a kiss. "I usually have other associations with sex and squeaking partners."

The kiss was stolen mostly from Jake's lower lip, as his mouth was still hanging open dumbly. "That's..." He blinked up at Jean-Paul, his face screwing up in amused disgust. "Why would you tell me such a thing?" he asked in mock horror, throwing a pillow at the speedster.
"I'm going to have to open up my skull and scrub my brain off now."

Jean-Paul caught the missile deftly. "It seems to have largely distracted you, and so I consider it a job well done."

Jake stuck his tongue out, reaching out to pull the speedster in for a kiss. "You're impossible," he murmured against Jean-Paul's mouth.

"All part of the service, monsieur," Jean-Paul smirked, gratified to see that Jake had relaxed at least somewhat.

A brisk knock came from the door as Manuel used his cane for it. "Room service," he said dryly, attempting to ignore the subtle emotions coming from the pair. "If this is a lure for a threesome--" he started as the door opened. "Then clearly you have been listening to too much gossip."

"I would never be so ungracious," Jean-Paul responded, opening the door smoothly, "as to trick a gentleman into such an affair. Besides, the going rate for getting Jake to sleep is dinner and dessert. Sex is extra."

"Talk is cheap Senor, therefore I expect the dinner to be amazing, even if the sex is not." Manuel walked in and stopped, studying Jake under his indifferent gaze. "My only stipulation is that what I am doing does not leave this room or either of you."

Jake gave him a wry smile. "Wouldn't want to ruin your image." He shifted on the bed, not sure if he should be sitting or lying down. "So. What do I do?"

He approached the bed and eased down beside Jake, setting his cane aside. "That depends on you and how you want to fall asleep. Sitting up or lying down."

Jake scooted down obediently until he was lying on his back. His eyes flicked from Manuel to Jean-Paul, and he hesitated upon meeting the speedster's gaze, then held out his hand. "Will you...?"

"You ask the most ridiculous questions, Jacob." Jean-Paul wrapped his hand around Jake's and gave it a squeeze. He was a little surprised that Jake had offered him the left hand, but supposed it was as much a matter of reassurance as simple affection.

"This is not surgery," he said, his tone flat. "It will not hurt--" Manuel leaned over Jake, placing a hand on his forehead and he smiled evily. "--Much."

He dove into Jake's deep well of emotions and closed his eyes against the wash of colours in his visual perception, coursing through a surge of wariness. Guilt was pushed aside and he softened his empathetic hand, easing one emotional stress slowly until it bent but not broken. One link into the next, Manuel worked, easing Jake from his fight into something more complacant until he gave, relaxed under Manuel's subtle control. He settled Jake into a fall of submission that would allow him to succumb to his own emotions and not what was placed there by Manuel's own empathy.

An hour passed before Manuel opened his eyes to a sound shapeshifter, asleep under his touch and he broke the contact, slouching noticeably from the weight of his work. A sigh escaped his lips and he reached a shaky hand for his cane but it slipped and clattered to the floor.

Jean-Paul knelt to get it without a murmur. "Merci, Manuel." He glanced at the man finally relaxed in the bed, sleeping so deeply that his arm had vanished again. "He needed this badly."

"I am sure he did," Manuel replied without lowering his voice and took the cane with a faint nod of thanks. Jake would not wake. No one would wake from such deep sleep. An hour's work gone, but had he pushed Jake into emotions he didn't have. Jake would have snapped, broken easily as Lorna Dane had done so long ago when Manuel didn't have the faintest idea what damaging strength his powers had. Now he controlled those doses, small in release and effective but stretched out over a course of minor adjustments within Jake. "I stretched it out, lengthened so that Jake would sleep a full eight hours and not spend that time crazy because of a poor ten minute job."

"It does not appear to have done you any favors," Jean-Paul observed, taking in Manuel's slumped posture and unsteady hands. An hour was a long time to keep up precision control of anything. "If you would like a little time for yourself, to rest and refresh a bit, I have a spare room. Or the couch, if you have missed it."

"I need no favours," Manuel replied bitterly, though it was mostly a comment made to himself and not directed towards the present company. Instead, he shook his head and stood up, unsteady at first but collected, inhaling in the manner that refused help, and silently said that it was not to be offered. "No, I will take my leave elsewhere, Gracias." He walked to the door and paused at it, gripping the handle beneath whitening knuckles. "See that he eats first thing. He will be sluggish when he wakes."