ArchivedLogs:For Lent

For Lent
Dramatis Personae Dusk, Micah, Jackson
In Absentia	15 March 2014 Warning: Highly suggestive conversation.
Location <NYC> The Roost - Village Lofts - East Village
Dusk's bedroom is a messy place as might be expected, cluttered with books and clothing, forgotten dishes, boxes of Magic cards, other miscellany. His bed is not 'bed' so much as 'mattress on the floor'; though there /is/ a full bed against the opposite wall, it's neatly made and has been untouched for a while. His desk holds the desktop -- somewhat literally. /Far/ more elaborate of a setup than his lack-of-bed, the desk /itself/, with see-through glass body and softly glowing lights inside, has been configured to /be/ the computer case. Closer inspection of a pair of small decorative aquariums sitting to either side of its three monitors finds them to /also/ be computer cases, their inner workings submerged in a pale blue liquid on a bed of aquarium pebbles alongside plastic plants and little plastic castles or fake coral. Game time has come and gone. The delicious smell of samosas still lingers in the apartment and there's been Happy Cakes cake in /abundance/ tonight. Dusk is at the moment wearing a rather ridiculous quantity of shiny colourful beads rattling around his neck, dangling down over his bare chest; he's otherwise just in socks and jeans, a length of gauze wrapped around his wrist. He /might/ have had a bit too much coffee all through gaming, or maybe a bit too much cake, or maybe /both/; at least he's kind of /bouncing/ around the room by now, wings shifting restlessly against his back. "-- Hive tell you guys the good news?" His fanged smile is quick and bright, echoed in his dark eyes. Too much coffee? Nonsense. Micah has his hands wrapped around a mug, soaking in its warmth through his fingertips even as he drinks it. Resting the mug on his denim-clad thigh, he reaches out to bat catlike at Dusk's beads as he bounces past. "Good news?" Micah's brows lift, curiosity piqued. "I like good news. 'Specially Hive an' good news, these days. What's the story?" He leans further back against Dusk's bed, completing the casual look that started with his messy auburn hair and 'UNSTOPPABLE!' T-rex T-shirt over hunter green henley. Jax is curled in at Micah's side, a good deal /less/ energetic than Dusk. Less colourful, too, he's only got /one/ strand of metallic-blue beads; he's otherwise in black skinny-jeans liberally adorned with silver zippers, black sleeveless top dotted with silver stars over long-sleeved black fishnet shirt. He's washed his hair down out of its liberty spikes, now just a floppy mess of black with tips frosted in purple and red; indoors he's still wearing his sunglasses. His hand rests against Micah's chest, fingers splayed out against the other man's shirt as his posture kind of wilts in against his husband. "Mmm?" A lazy smile touches his lips. "/Good/ news? Oh-gosh-yes /please/ I'd like me some'a /that/." "Cage took him out to the Commons lot today." Dusk pulls his desk chair over by the bed -- desk /stool/, really, backless out of consideration for his wings -- to drop down to sit on it. "His -- whatever the fuck Cage has been doing. Shadow company shit. Anyway they got all the permits -- worked out. Everything's all -- golden. Good to go. Set. Ready to -- smash down that old abandoned building that's sitting there and build our shit. Actually Cage might have accidentally done some of the smashing himself I'm not really clear on the details he's kind of a human wrecking ball." As Dusk rearranges furniture, Micah's batting hand moves to rest over Jax's instead. He nestles in a little closer with a pleased expression, warmed by coffee and snuggles. "Oh, that'll be good for 'im t'see get started. He's needed...t'see good things happen." He snickers at the description of Cage-wrecking-ball. "Aaaand, now I'm picturin' Cage just smashin' through walls like the Kool-Aid Man." "What's the Kool-Aid Man?" Jax's brow furrows in puzzlement. He snuggles closer to Micah with a happy quiet purr rumbling in his throat, hand turning upward to curl fingers around Micah's hand. "Oh /oh/. Oh that's /awesome/. I mean, that's awesome /anyway/ but I bet that extra-/special/ awesome for Hive, he's -- this whole thing --" His smile brightens, warm. "He needs some happy. An' this is kinda his baby. Though he's been wearin' himself to the /bone/ on this maybe he'll actually get hisself some /rest/ when he breaks ground. -- We should get Cage a present." Dusk gives Jax a blank look at this first question. "Dude, what /planet/ did you grow up on? Big? Pitcher of Kool-Aid? Oh-yeah?" His head shakes sadly. He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "It's /pretty/ excellent," he agrees with a pleased smile. "He needs a fucking /break/. -- Tag could /paint/ Cage like the Kool-Aid man," he suggests thoughtfully. "And I bet he could smash through plenty of walls. It'd be a hit on YouTube." “Oh right, the planet with no TV on,” Micah reminds Dusk with a grin. “He's a giant juice pitcher man who smashes through walls in Kool-Aid commercials and--yeah, mostly it's absurd.” He leans in to nuzzle at Jax's neck when the other man starts to purr. “I don't know nothin' 'bout what Cage would want for a present. Prob'ly /not/ t'be the next YouTube sensation for bein' painted red an' getting' smashed into things.” Not that Micah isn't giggling at the idea. "A giant juice pitcher man?" Jackson does not sound any /less/ puzzled at this. His head turns towards Dusk, brow furrowed behind his glasses. A large pitcher of -- sweet tea appears on Micah's chest. Then grows legs. And a large happy face. Tap shoes. A bow tie. "I don't get it. And yeah I come from the planet'a no television an' honestly it sounds like a much saner planet than you guys's land. -- I ain't no good at presents, most'a mine involve lotsa sugary -- uh. Sugar." His smile widens at Micah's giggling, head nuzzling in against the other man's chest with ear pressed to it to listen to the laughter. "Uhhh, Jax, have you /tasted/ your sugary-things? Because they're a /pretty/ excellent present." Dusk swivels around on his stool, though sadly not for any sugary treats. Just for his thermos, which he swipes off his desk to pop open and take a long gulp. He grins at Jax's nooot-quite-accurate Kool-Aid-Man approximate. "Nah you're not quite getting it. He's, uh. Big and red. And smashes through walls. It's -- it's just silly don't worry about it. I don't think you're really missing out on a whole /lot/." "Bright red sugar-water," Micah corrects, still giggling at the not-quite-right image. "Yours has a bow tie, though. An' bow ties are cool." A few little kisses join the nuzzles against Jax's throat. "Think your sugar makes a perfectly good present. Just have t'get somebody t'sneakily figure out what kindsa sugar Luke likes. When he's not fulla bright red sugar-water." And we're back to giggling. The sweet tea ripples and morphs into bright red liquid. Jackson presses closer to Micah, purring again at the kisses. "This -- okay yeah it sounds silly." The pitcher vanishes as Jackson's words just fade into chuckling. His hand curls around Micah's side, breath exhaled in a quiet happy sigh and head tilting back to bare his throat to kisses. "Hive could sneakily -- wait no he couldn't, t'ain't /nothin'/ sneaky 'bout Hive's prying he don't really do subtle. Oh! Maybe the pups could ask Chelsea. Kids are the sneaky-/est/ back-door." His hand slides down, slipping beneath Micah's shirt to run back up along the older man's ribs. "S'kinda neat, ain't it? S'all -- actually /happenin'/. I mean. We're gonna have a /home/. Like. For-real. Really-truly-actually /our/ home." "More than kind of." Dusk takes another swig from his thermos, setting it back on the desk afterwards and popping its lid closed again. "Kind of feel like we should celebrate. Though maybe that's jinxing it. Like maybe we should wait till ground's /actually/ broken. Or maybe we should wait till it's actually done. Or till we're all moved in. Or I don't know till we've been living there a year without getting bombed. But --" He shrugs a wing, leaning forward again to rest his chin in one cupped palm. "-- There was a zombie in it," he adds offhand. "Crawled out of the river. Do you think that's a sign of something?" "Oh, that /is/ a good idea. Pass word through the teenagers. Then maybe we can figure out 'is /favourite/ sugary thing an' y'might be able t'make that an' it'll be perfect." Micah leans in again, kisses now coming with a pleased hum at Jax's petting. "Our home. An' can't nobody throw /any/ of us out just for bein' who we are." His 'hmm' is a little more thoughtful for a moment. "Groundbreakin's usually come with a ceremony or a celebration or somethin'. That should happen soon, now, shouldn't it?" He shakes his head a little. "S'just a sign that it was an empty space in need of some love, an' that empty spaces in New York've been a little full of zombies. We're gonna take it an' fill it /up/ with love instead." "Oh -- oh are we going to break ground during /Lent/." Jackson looks disappointed, for a moment, turning his face in towards Micah's chest to hide his frown. "That is the /worst/ time for a celebration I pretty much can't party like at all until Easter." He nuzzles in closer to Micah, turning his head up to press a kiss to the other man's neck. "Oh!" He sounds suddenly bright. "Gosh this means we been together for a whole year now. I /totally/ failed at Lent with you /last/ year." This remembrance earns a blush and a very amused giggle. "I do not," Dusk admits easily, "understand Catholics, man. You guys are no fun at all." His teeth bare in a wide grin, head tipping for a moment to listen to something unheard by the others. "-- I'm totally putting money on you failing at it again this year, though. I mean, come on. Your husband is fucking gorgeous. And this abstinence thing is bullshit. You can't give up /every/ fun thing. Especially," he says with a quiet purr rumbling beneath his words, "if we're supposed to be filling this new place up with all this love, after all." "Ohgosh, that's...bad timin' for you, isn't it?" Micah looks down at Jax a little wide-eyed. "Well, it ain't Lent 'til t'morrow, right? We can have our own celebration t'night, then." A rapidly brightening blush seeps into his cheeks. "I didn't know it was a thing last year. M'totally a bad influence." A bad influence whose hand has moved to stroke idly across Jax's stomach. "Are y'really not allowed /anythin'/? I knew y'didn't do no caffeine last year. An'...apparently it's s'posed t'be no sex. But no /fun/, neither?" He leans in a little closer again, nose touching to Jax's neck, but no kisses. "Does it make a dif'rence that we're married, maybe? A lotta times sex is less of a no-no once there's a marriage... Did I mention I'm bad at the whole religion thing?" "There ain't exactly rules," Jackson admits, his blush deepening. "S'just kinda a personal thing for me. I mean, the only rules has to do with Fridays and meat and that clearly ain't no thing for me but -- my own /personal/ rules is --" His nose crinkles up, face tipping to touch his neck lightly against Micah's nose. His back arches, stomach pressing up against Micah's hand with a soft happy sigh, a quiet purring hum following. "-- well, a lotta things. Kinda by default I give up caffeine an' sex an' make sure t'get to Mass 'least three times durin' the weekdays an' say the rosary every day an' -- get t'confession more an' try t'be more charitable towards folks an' -- well there's a lotta things, it's more about what I try to do /positive/ than what I try to stay /away/ from but that's. Part'a it too." His nose crinkles, teeth scraping over his lower lip. "-- Only s'funny cuz'a last year I didn't even expect the sex thing to come /up/ cuz I -- wasn't even with anyone an' I didn't -- I mean you was the first person I'd been with since I broke up with my --" His cheeks flush dark. "Actually the first person I'd been with at /all/ except for my last -- anyway it was pretty unexpected that it even /mattered/ that -- um." His cheeks burn darker still. "OK so maybe it's kinda unfair to you to be swearin' offa it this year anyway," he muses uncertainly. "I hadn't -- really -- thought about it until. Right now." "Terrible influence." Dusk sounds mostly amused through Jax's explanation, eyes tipping down to watch Micah's hand move against Jax's stomach. His wings stretch out behind him, flexing slowly. "I'm /pretty/ damn sure the Catholic church frowns on your marriage anyway so I don't think that's much of a loophole. You should probably just cram in all the sex you can tonight. -- I'm a way better influence, see? If you do decide to swear off sex all Lent," he offers, totally magnanimously, one hand placed earnestly over his heart, "I promise I will be here, Jax, to see to your husband's needs." "Honey, you do what it is that's right for you an' I'll support you in whatever. Just 'cause it don't make sense t'me don't mean I should keep it from you, 'specially if it's important t'you." Micah's blush runs a little brighter as Jax brings up last year again. And yet his fingers curl in, scritching against Jax's skin where he presses up into his hand. "Mightn't frown so hard anymore. They went an' got themselves a /nice/ Pope this time 'round. Don't know if it's a good plan t'have a whole...month? How long is Lent? Month's worth of sex in one night." With a snort of laughter, he reaches a hand out, pawing in Dusk's direction. "Oh, Saint Dusk...such sacrifices he makes..." "Ain't you jus' /such/ a good friend, Dusk." There's laughter bright in Jax's tone; his tongue sticks out at Dusk after this. "Forty days. Lent's for forty days an' oh /gosh/ if we try to fit in that-all tonight I don't think I'll be, uh, much good at work tomorrow. /Especially/ since after Luci I'm still kinda -- kinda /really/ um --" Jax blushes fiercely again, hiding his face in against Micah's side. "... but even if we don't manage forty days," he mumbles, "we could try for 'least a good bit of it?" His stomach still presses up into his husband's touch, head tipping up now to press his mouth to Micah's. "Just trying to be supportive." Dusk slides down off his stool, slipping onto the mattress on Jax's other side. He curls a wing around the other men, leaning in to kiss the back of Jax's neck softly. "We got time. Pretty sure we can fit in quite a /bit/."