Jean-Paul and Jake | Backdated Saturday, Mid-day

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Jake's attempt to be nice utterly fails.


Jake stood outside Jean-Paul's doorway, the small gift-wrapped item in hand. Second thoughts. It had hardly been one stray Jean-Paul might like that thought when the small wintery Naples encompassed in a snowglobe had caught his eye in the storefront window. Somehow, it was...well, both cheesy and classy at the same time (a fact the shopkeep quite knew when he set the price). An impulse buy that Jake'd almost tossed a couple times since, but as the end of May drew near, and he found himself back in New York, somehow wrapping it and leaving it with a brief Happy Birthday note at Jean-Paul's door seemed right. Well, until he actually found himself at the doorway, wondering what the hell he'd been thinking.

Jean-Paul opened his door, reaching back to grab his coat, and didn't notice that Jake was standing there until he nearly ran into him. He managed to draw himself up short, at least, before actually doing so, but he narrowed his eyes at the younger man. "You are here to tell me you have spoken to someone about your... tiny problem?"

Jake blinked, internally smacking himself upside the head at the mistiming. "No. I mean, yes, but no," he said, at an unusual loss for words as he looked up at the man he hadn't intended to run into. He straightened up, spying the gift in hand, and awkwardly extended it. "Uh, happy birthday. It's stupid, but...it made me think of you."

"As eloquent as ever," Jean-Paul muttered, eyes still narrowed as he reluctantly reached for the parcel. He paused before actually taking it, though, and asked, "You have spoken to someone, have you not?"

"You're welcome," Jake stated, waiting to release the gift. Never one for careful wrapping, it nonetheless was fairly well concealed with a minimum of excess paper sticking out at odd angles. "Tuesday. Remy's expecting me, and I'm sure he'll be quite willing to pass it along to the entirety of the New York population and then some." Which, while not at all true, made for quite the frustrated response that doubtless leaked through in tone.

"Mm..." Jean-Paul managed to keep his lips from twisting in the faint grimace that attempted to make itself known, but only just. "Good luck with that meeting." It was obvious that he wasn't necessarily sympathetic toward the younger man's plight. Good manners won out, though, and he grudgingly said, "Merci," with a gesture toward the gift.

It was the only one he'd received this year. He couldn't help thinking that life would be a great deal easier if he hadn't received any at all, but such was the way of the world. Here he stood with it. He would need to deal with it, eventually.

"Sorry to inconvenience you with actually being here," Jake said, not bothering to hide his frustration at the response, as he relinquished the package and took a definite step back from the door. "Trust me, it wasn't my intention."

After reaching inside the door to put the gift on a table there, Jean-Paul turned back to Jake and said very quietly, "You do not get to remake the rules. Whatever your intention, whether inconvenience or rebuilding bridges... I do not know. I should not care."

"No, apparently you get to make them all," Jake replied, stopping in the middle of the hall. His mouth twitched as if he was debating holding the words. But really, when had that ever worked for Jake? They tumble out anyways. "You got mean while I was gone. Or is that reserved just for me?"

"Mean?" Jean-Paul asked, expression melting into something flat. "Oui." He closed the door to his suite, then stepped in very close to Jake and softly, "But only toward those who deserve it. Like you."

"Why?" Jake asked, uncomfortable with the position, but managing to limit it to a small shift without backing away. "Why do I deserve it?" he asked again, daring a look at Jean-Paul's face.

Sudden uncertainty cut through the anger swirling inside Jean-Paul's mind, though he kept it from showing. Because really, why did Jake deserve it? Because he hadn't thought Jean-Paul was worth commitment? Because he'd slept with Wanda? Because of a million tiny things that didn't even factor into Jean-Paul's life any longer? "Because you come back and act as though things might be the same, as though neither of us left. Things are not the same. They never will be."

A thousand excuses came to mind, all the usual suspects. That's what he does, who he is, shouldn't you expect anything else. Jake didn't voice them, though, unusually silent for several long moments. "They don't have to be the same, but it could be something. Or not," he finally ventured. "But I'm stuck here for now, probably for a while, if Remy has anything to say about it, so we're bound to run into each other. So what should it be? Friendly? Cordial? Ignore you entirely? I have no idea what you want."

"Rien," Jean-Paul answered. Nothing. "From you, I want nothing." That wasn't entirely true. "I want... I want to forget this - it is difficult. You are exhausting." Selective memory loss would be handy. If he could remember the things he wanted - like recipes - and forget the things he didn't - like how it felt waking up next to Jake - everything would be so much simpler.

Jake didn't respond, didn't even look at him. He studied his hands, flexing each finger experimentally, carefully watching the movement. "Okay," he finally responded, looking up with a nod. "I'll do my best to keep out of your way."

Jean-Paul nodded back, not actually saying anything as he stepped away from the younger man. He took a left, heading for the flight platform on the floor above, frustrated as he usually was after speaking with Jake. He wasn't sure why. It rankled.

Jake just watched him go without comment, then turned and headed the opposite direction, the frustration definitely mutual.