I don't want a divorce. Please. (closed)

[JD Paerson]

JD raised an eyebrow. "Really? Those are my only two options? Because I was fairly certain I was just going to get an apartment on my own." Which he could do, if his tuition was being covered. And if Zac reneged on that promise, well, he'd just have to make do with the dormitories.

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"I didn't say anything. But having a dry shirt is not exactly a golden lining, you have to admit." JD sat down with his legs hanging off the edge of the buoy. It meant his feet were resting in the water, but it wasn't like there was room anywhere else. "My size, huh? Did you raid my closet again while I wasn't in the room? Ask someone else to steal it? Or did you buy me something new and hideous? Please don't tell me it's gold, glittery, or anything with sparkles on it. Because then I'd just stick with what I have on. Even if it is soaked."

He caught the book that Zac threw at him and looked at it suspiciously. "Geez, Zac, didn't know you were religious. Why'd you get me a Bible?" Then he rolled his eyes and opened up the bag, shielding himself ineffectively from Zac's attempt to dry himself by putting up one hand in front of his face.

Looking through the photo album, JD had to be impressed with the work that went into all of this. Even if it was slightly creepy. He hadn't even remembered Zac having a camera for some of these days, which meant either that he found other people who had pictures or there had been someone hired to photograph them from behind bushes or something the whole time. JD would believe either of those stories.

More importantly, of course, was what the scrapbook meant. Which was that Zac was a giant girl. And potentially also a baby. At least a sap. And while looking at the scrapbook didn't exactly bring tears to JD's eyes or anything, it made him better understand that Zac was actually trying something. In his own stupid, sappy way.

Looking up from the picture of Zac napping in his bed--when had that picture been taken and who else had copies of it so that he could destroy them?--and the opposing picture of the two at Niagara falls--Zac leaning over the railing to get closer to the spray and JD looking like he may or may not push the guy in at some point--JD sighed. He then did the only logical thing he could think of.

"You're an idiot," he said with a smile, pushing Zac off the buoy and back into the lake. "But at least you're learning not to be a complete ass. Fine, you're forgiven. So long as I still get to take you up on that offer of a private jet at some point. And as long as you have a good way for me to get back to shore." He wrapped the scrapbook back up in the plastic bag and tied it to his belt loop. Plenty of time to decide what to do with it later. He looked up at Zac expectantly.

[Zachary LaRousse]

If it was up to Zac, the heir claims he would’ve gotten JD anything other than that sappy scrapbook. Not only was it a little too cheap in his book, but it entailed a whole lot of work too. (Though obtaining the pictures from Mia, among others, did cost him a bit over a hundred grand. Damn technopath paparazzo). Apologies in his book were (normally) made not just with words, but costly peace offerings, like cars, yachts, a trip around the world and any other gesture that’ll showcase his immense wealth.

But he knows that the speedster would demand more than that. He (believes that he) knows how cynical the boy can be, that he’s not easily impressed with something that didn’t demand anything more from the mimic. Their explosive confrontation a good month or so before told him that he really needs to prove to the boy how sorry he was.

Even if it means looking like an absolute girl.

“It’s not glittery or sparkly. But it is a neon ensemble. Mostly pinks and lime greens,” he teased as he was pushed off the buoy, widening his eyes slightly for effect. “Why would I raid your closet? Everyone knows you have poor taste in clothes. You don’t even know how to wear a scarf properly.” Never mind the fact that he has incorporated JD’s style into his wardrobe so he has something to wear whenever he feels the need to tone his flashiness down.

He gave an ok signal to the staff around the perimeter of the lake, telling them that the job’s done and they could stop exerting their influence over the environment. “We’re going to have to swim back. Don’t worry, water’s not that cold, not with my weather manipulators around. (No, they’re not Robbie). Though since they’re leaving, we might want to swim fast if we don’t want to catch a cold.”

Turning around, he offered JD his back and grinned. “Hop on?”

ooc:
Wrapped? <3.
- Jam

[JD Paerson]

"That's because scarves are for losers," JD muttered. He was not impressed at all by Zac's fashion style, and he had no intention of wearing anything that the guy would find "nice." But he also knew that Zac did have an idea of what JD actually enjoyed wearing, and he guessed that the guy was teasing about the neon thing. Probably.

"Moron, you planned this whole thing out but forgot to leave a boat out here for when we needed to get back?" JD asked, wishing for the newspaper again. Of course, had he brought it it only would have gotten soaked.

"What, now you know how to mimic a surfboard? Or were you just going to go for sea turtle? No thanks, I think I'll do better if I just swim on my own." Which he could do, at least to a degree. To keep himself from rethinking his decision to deny help, he jumped into the water and kicked his way back to the surface.

"You owe me a new pair of shoes, too," he called as he started to swim across. He wasn't a good swimmer by any means, but at least he could stay afloat now, and luckily the water wasn't too choppy.

When he finally dragged himself ashore--in the end he'd only needed a little help from Zac--he walked over to the car, fishing the keys out of his pocket. He popped the trunk and pulled out a few towels. He threw one at Zac and kept one for himself. With relief he noticed that there was a pile of neon clothes for the attention whore and a nice set of jeans and a blue t-shirt, and even some dry socks and a pair of sneakers.

And hey, if the t-shirt happened to have a Superman logo on the front, he could probably live with that.