ArchivedLogs:Not So Different

Not So Different
Dramatis Personae Horus, Jax, Spence, Steve
In Absentia	2016-01-11 "{... would you like to learn? To dance.}"
Location <NYC> {Birdhaus} - Harbor Commons - Lower East Side
This house does not, perhaps, look much like what many people would think when they think of the home of a rock star. Modest and not flashy in a normal sense, it is nevertheless /eye/-catching -- huge tall ceilings, huge tall windows, wide open layout, a balcony from the second floor looking down on the first. Its walls have been studded with a number of long branch-like poles jutting out at angles; from the ceiling hang a few different trapeze-like swings. The furniture is minimalist, low-slung futons and a few overly enormous puffy beanbags, tables set low to the ground. The extravagant entertainment system is the one concession to ostentation. Most of the ground floor is open in layout, foyer opening up into a huge living room, kitchen and dining rooms adjoining it, a small sunny conservatory tucked to the other side of the living room that looks out over the river, a wide full bath off the conservatory. The three bedrooms off the balcony upstairs each have their own bathrooms. There's another full bath and separate smaller kitchen in the basement, together with two spare guest bedrooms and a somewhat cluttered soundproofed room full of musical equipment. Though it's early in the day, still, Jax is home, not actually gone to work today with a memorial service he's only recently gotten home from with his kids. Spence is curled up on the living room couch with his robot spider and a nest of B's fuzzy Tribbles, still dressed in slacks and a crisp dress shirt and embroidered silvery and black kippah, /Over the Garden Wall/ playing on the screen though he is kind of blank-eyed as he stares at the screen. In the next room, Jax is curled up, too, tucked onto cushions on a windowseat in the conservatory, Obie snuggled up at his side. He's also in dress shirt and slacks and a tie, laptop out and tablet in his lap. Eye flicking at intervals to the glass-paneled door out to the living room, brow furrowing before he bites his lip and looks back down to his work. Steve comes out of Commonhaus, wearing a blue, green, and white flannel shirt over a yellow t-shirt with a happy skeletal T-rex dancing over the word 'FOSSIL' spelled out of bones, crisp blue jeans, and scuffed black combat boots. His shield hangs from a harness across his back. He circles the courtyard slowly, as if searching for something, but on his third circuit he suddenly cuts toward Birdhaus. Hesitates on the front steps for a moment. Then finally raises his hand and knocks on the door. There's a flutter of wings from inside. The door is answered soon, sliding open; from behind it, Horus looks up, talons skittering against the floor. His wings flutter again as he flies up, perches on Steve's shoulder to press his beak lightly against the top of the man's hair. "Hey, buddy." Steve leans his head lightly against Horus's side, mussing his recently brushed hair. He digs around in his pocket and comes out with a faceted glass charm hanging from an ornate skein of red knotwork, with a red and gold tassel hanging below it. "Saw this in Chinatown. It's supposed to be good luck? I /think/..." He shoves both hands back in his pockets. "Is Jax here? I'd like to talk to him, if he isn't busy." Horus snatches the charm out of Steve's hand quickly, warbling quiet once he's claimed it. He topples down off the other man's shoulder, gliding across the living room towards the conservatory door to tap on the glass with his beak, then taps at the panel beside it to get its doors to swing open. Flits off up to vanish upstairs immediately after, his new PRIZE gripped tight in his beak. On the couch, Spencer doesn't look up. He curls tighter into a ball, half hiding his face against his pile of fuzzy robots. Stares more determinedly at the television. Steve follows Horus into the house -- loosely follows; though he might well be /able/ to match the speed of such casual flight in a pinch, he does not attempt it. Stops in the middle of the living room when he sees Spence. He goes to the couch, though not near enough to touch. Looks at the screen for a moment, then down at the boy, his pale blue eyes distant. He says nothing, but when he departs he leaves a thin hardbound book balanced on the arm of the couch, a soft watercolor illustration on its cover of a small boy standing on a comically small asteroid. 'Le Petit Prince', it reads, 'Antoine de Saint-Exupery'. When he gets to the conservatory door, he still knocks on it before peering inside, uncertain. "{Hello?}" This comes out in French, and he quickly corrects to Spanish. "{Sorry, hello.}" Obie lifts his head first, raising it from where it rests against Jax's lap together with a slow thump of tail. Jax glances up from his screen next, a smile slow to touch his face but warm and genuine for all that once he actually drags himself out of the heavily exhausted expression he had been wearing. "{Oh -- hey. Come in. Can you close the door? Oh! Wait, I should get -- do you want tea? Or -- coffee, I can make -- oh, and there's -- there's cookies or --}" Jax starts to set his tablet aside, stylus still gripped in his hand as he runs knuckles over the fuzzy top of his head, hair slowly starting to grow back in. "{... real food, I think some. Leftovers. Soup. Or jambalaya. Or.}" Steve steps inside and closes the door. "{It's fine, you don't need to get me anything.}" He crosses the room quickly as if he expects he'll need to /intercept/ Jax from getting up to fetch food and drink anyway. "{I want to talk to you.}" Though now he hesitates again, biting his bottom lip. "{It doesn't have to be now, though, if you need... I mean we can talk, but it doesn't have to be about --}" He cuts himself off. Closes his eyes. Opens them again. "{Sorry. Let me start again. Can I talk to you?}" Sinks down to one knee so he can scritch beyond Obie's ears without looming over man and dog. Jax is, indeed, already starting to close his computer, set his things aside on the table, get up from his seat. He doesn't actually sit back down when Steve says it's fine, just hesitates where he stands, looking /very/ uncertain at this claim that food is unnecessary. His teeth drag against his lip; he eyes the door, then eyes Steve, weight shifting from one foot to the other and his hands brushing down against his slacks. "{Doesn't have to be about --?}" He sounds very confused at this, looking down at Steve with no small measure of concern. "{I mean, of course you can. Talk to me. What's going on, is everything okay?}" Obie, on the other hand, has no such concern, tail thumping happily as his paw lifts to hook around Steve's wrist. Drag it in for better licking. "{If you would like to get something for yourself, can. But I eat when I get home, from work,}" Steve assures the other man. "{Please, sit.}" /He/ has not gotten back up off the floor -- couldn't possibly, since Obie has TRAPPED his hand. Draws a long breath in, shakes his head. "{Everything is not okay, and I feel very selfish for bothering you with this when you are hurt, and exhausted, and busy fighting to make things better.}" "{Things will probably continue to be not-okay for a long time. And we will probably be hurting and exhausted and fighting. For a long time.}" Until then, his words might have been aimed as much at the dog as at Jax, but now Steve tips his head back, somehow managing to look small. "{I'm not expecting or asking you to feel the same. But I --}" He stops again, sets his jaw tight. "{I love you.}" "{Well -- yeah, but -- that was probably like -- half a whole hour ago you might need to eat /again/ or -- I could at least get you tea or...}" Jax doesn't sit. But he isn't /leaving/, either, that's kind of a victory, right? His brows crease slightly as Steve speaks, the worry in his face not going away at Steve's proclamation of not-okayness. His hand starts to reach for the other man, but then drops back to his side. For a moment, at least. By the end of this, though, he's just reaching right back for Steve again, his worried frown returned as he drops his hand to squeeze at the other man's shoulder. "{Oh -- sweetie, I love you too. Are you -- did something /happen/, is there --}" His teeth are worrying at his lip ring again. "{You're not in some kind of trouble are you?}" His cheeks flush red before he adds, "... more. Trouble." Steve blinks up at Jax. Snickers. Then just starts laughing, though the mirth doesn't last long. "No, no, not...well. {Not /more/ trouble. Exept I'm bad at. /Life,/ I guess. Is that trouble?}" He lays his hand on Jax's and stands up (stealing his other hand back from Obie). "{I don't think my Spanish good enough for this.} I mean that I am /in/ love. With you." Jax blinks down at the laughing, confused, though a puzzled half-smile touches his face. Growing into a full one at the question. "{Life is plenty of trouble.}" The smile drops away abruptly at Steve's conclusion, though. Now he /does/ sit. Very abruptly, dropping back into his seat with a heavy thump and a sudden catch of breath, hands tightening hard around Steve's and an unsteady tremor to the light around him. Obie sit up, indignant, startled -- only indignant for a second before he worms back next to Jax to drop his head on Jax's shoulder and start licking at his ear. This does nothing to shake the wide-eyed blank look from Jax's face. Though still down on the floor, Steve shifts toward Jax with startling speed when the other man collapses back into the seat -- presumably so he might catch him if he /missed/ the chair. But now he's just kneeling in front of him, squeezing his hand back (steadily and with care). "{I'm sorry, I...know it is selfish.}" He looks down. "{This doesn't mean I do not want to be your friend. It doesn't /have/ to mean anything different. But it's the truth.}" The light around Jax is still fluttering, erratic and unsteady. His eye tracks after Steve when the other man shifts, colour blossoming deep and crimson up his cheeks. Slowly he collects himself enough to nudge Obie away from his head, nose wrinkling up as he wipes his ear against his shoulder. "{Selfish? I -- no, I -- I just --}" There's a somewhat dazed quality to his voice. His eye drops to their hands, then lifts to Steve's face. "{... I just never imagined. That you -- I mean, I thought you were -- you never said anything that -- I thought you --}" He pulls in a shaky breath, his hands noticeably warmer in Steve's than they had been even just a few short seconds before. "... I done lost track of the times the past little while I had t'fight myself not t'ask you to kiss me." Steve is still staring at their hands. "{I didn't say anything because...well, many reasons.}" He looks just a little sheepish, chews on the inside of his cheek thoughtfully. "{At first I thought maybe it was...}" He closes his eyes, sits back onto his heels. "{Me being broken and clinging to anyone who showed me kindness. Then, when I knew it wasn't, it seemed unfair to give you more stress, when you already had so much. I wanted to be supportive, and not to}...take advantage {of your grief and pain. Besides...}" He opens his eyes again and looks up at Jax. "{You have children, and other family, and this whole life, and I'm...I'm sure it would complicate things a lot, if we were to romance.}" Chuckling again, he shakes his head. "But I was getting ahead of myself and anyway...it's for you to decide what is right for your life. Not me." Jax exhales, quick, an unsteady hitch of laugh as he squeezes at Steve's hands. "{Oh. /I/ never said anything. All this time I think I was -- making you too uncomfortable. If I was -- too affectionate or --}" He shakes his head quickly. "{Thought maybe /I/ was being too. Clinging. Needed to take a step back when you had so much to adjust to.}" He shifts in his seat, giving Obie room to settle back down again. "... I do got a whole life. But you're part'a it, now. Whatever -- other feelings -- well. I don't want /that/ to change none." His teeth click once more against his lip ring. "An' everyone's got -- pain. But love -- help that, it don't make it heavier. Sometimes I look at you an' it /hurts/ how bad I wish I could jus' put my arms around you an' make things for you not so..." He blushes again, fierce, his teeth sinking hard against his lip as his eye drops downward. "{You are right, though. It -- is. Complicated. I have been married. And divorced. And Spencer -- and the pups too -- I don't know if more chaos is what /they/ need. And bringing someone else into /my/ life is always -- that's /dangerous/. People have bad habit of. Dying. Around -- here. Me. And /I/ don't know if I'm ready for...}" Jax swallows, hard. "... an' that's even /before/ we get t'the /normal/ datin' complication of are we even on the same page on what we want out of -- any'a this or what does /romance/ even /mean/ t'you or me an' where do we /start/." "{No, I was making /myself/ plenty uncomfortable.}" Steve blushes, and finally picks himself up off the floor to sit down beside Jax. "I don't want to make things worse for your kids, either, and if it is in my power to make things /better/, I will. {But I'm...kind of trouble. This you know.}" His smile is thin, slightly apologetic. "{And what /they/ want or need, also, should ask them.} At least...as far as the risks of being associated with you go?" He gives a helpless shrug. "I'm /really/ hard to kill." He hasn't actually let Jax's hand go, temperature notwithstanding. "{I should tell you now, I'm not much experience with relationships.}" Sucks in a long breath. "The first time anyone asked me out on a date...was about 30 seconds before I crashed into the Arctic Ocean." "You -- wait. You ain't -- really -- never -- I mean, you -- oh, /honey/-honey." Jax's eye widens, a small wrinkle between his brows. Very abruptly, he lets go of Steve's hand, in order to fling his arms around the other man in a tight hug. It takes a good long while before he lets go. "{I have not had a /ton/ of experience myself. Maybe be the first time dating someone when I have date /more/ than them. Guys have been... complicated. For me.}" His smile is a little crooked. He drops his hand to scratch at Obie's head, rubbing one of the beagle's long ears between his fingers. "... what do you want? In -- dating? A relationship? Where -- where /do/ we start?" Steve blushes even harder. "Never. But it wasn't so terrible. I loved and was loved in kind, we were just --" He breaks off, startled, but relaxes into the embrace. "-- at war." His arms wrap around Jax and he turns his face against the other man's shoulder. "She was going to teach me how to dance," this is murmured into Jax's shirt, quiet and a touch wistful. When they pull apart again, he's composed and no longer so red. "My ideas about dating are probably kind of...dated." Slight wince there. "But I'm not that attached to them, either. I had to reexamine them, the first time I fell in love with a man." He looks distant again, but shakes it off. "{A lot of what I'd like, isn't very different from what we already do.}" Steve reaches over and scritches under Obie's chin. "{To spend time with you, talk with you, become a part of your life, give and receive support, fight together for a better future.}" Blushing again. "{Maybe, go out to a show sometime.}" "We're still at war." This is very quiet, soft and pensive by Steve's ear. Jax's hand falls as he nestles in against Steve's shoulder, resting now on the other man's knee. "But that don't mean..." He exhales, slowly. Looks up with a touch of surprise, at Steve. His mouth opens on the verge of a question that doesn't quite form, held back instead with his fingers just squeezing down against the other man's leg. "{No. Not so different.} Maybe less freaking out about if I'm holdin' your hand too much." His smile is crooked, here, his cheeks flushed red. "{... would you like to learn? To dance.}" "Still at war, yes." Steve nods, his lips pressing into a thin line. "{Used to be, we put ours lives aside, go off to war, and expected to come back to them. Now...we /live/ the war, always.}" He curls his arm around Jax's shoulder. "{I like it,}" a bit shyly, "{holding your hand. And I would love to learn to dance. Will you teach me?}" Jax tucks his head in against Steve's side. "Jus' means we gotta find peace where we can." There's a faint glow that has flushed into the air around them, warm and soft to envelop both men. He nestles his head under Steve's chin, eye closing. "{I'll teach you.}"