ArchivedLogs:Smoothie Singularity

Smoothie Singularity
Dramatis Personae Jax, Micah, Spencer
In Absentia	26 April 2014 What happens when spaceships are primary smoothie ingredients. Some decisions are made. (Part of the Perfectus TP.)
Location <XS> Kitchen
The kitchen staff at Xavier's tends well to the needs of its residents. Always cognizant of its students and faculty's dietary needs alike, the menu has a wide variety of choices, and the longtime cook works wonders in the kitchen. The pantry, too, is kept well stocked for those who want to come prepare themselves their own snacks. The shelf, fridge, and freezer space is ample, though if anyone wants to keep their own food there, they'd better make sure it's labeled clearly, and even that is no guarantee it'll last. There is a veritable rainbow of foods laid out on the counter, this afternoon. Cheery purple-red beets, orange carrots, pale bananas, yellow slices of mango and peaches, red strawberries. There's been some food /art/ going on, too, it seems; on the cutting boards the foods have been /carved/, shaved into the shapes of rockets and spaceships. Jax is perched on a stool in front of the counter, little razor-sharp ceramic knife in hand and a whirring blender in front of him. He's got a purplish chunk of taro in his right hand that he's busily whittling down, too; it's joining the veggie-fleet in space-ship-itude. He's dressed as he has been all day, sky-blue skinny jeans, tall knee-high boots, sunny yellow tank. On a stool beside him Spencer, in jeans and a Green Lantern tee, is causing some small measure of /destruction/ to the fleet of spaceships. He's poking pieces of vegetables in through the hole in the blender's cover with /glee/, watching them fall to their destruction and get whirled into a colourful juicy vortex. "The singularity is pulling them in! There's no hope!" Micah is dressed as he has been today, as well, blue and green plaid button-down on over a white sleeveless undershirt, faded jeans, and sneakers. And gloves, of course, though the charcoal-grey set he's had on thus far are currently in his pockets. Instead, he has on clear plastic food-prep gloves to assist him with wielding a knife and a peeler. He's on the front end of this whole process, getting the fruits and veggies clean and down to manageable sizes for Jax's carvings. He's also helping to keep an eye on such things as that the blender's lid stays on while it is running and no child hands are doing unwise things with sharp objects. "We've finally found out what happens t'things that get sucked into black holes an' it's...kinda juicy, actually," he comments with a giggle as he peeks at the developing smoothie in the blender. "The whole fleet is getting destroyed! There's no turning back!" One of the strawberries maybe sneakily finds its way into Spencer's mouth instead of the blender, OOPS. But /most/ of the spaceships are getting whirled into juice. A peach-ship is slooowly being dragged towards the mouth of the blender. Spencer's eyes are wide as he pulls it towards its doom. "It was an honour serving with you," he informs -- the rest of the waiting fruits and veggies. "But we're past the event horiz--" PLOP. He turns his hands upward, examining the juice on his fingers. "It's kind of juicy everywhere." Jax is looking at his own hands with a crooked grin; there's been juice dripping down his wrists for a while, now. "Ships're leakin' all over the place." He sets the taro-ship down along with the others. "Think black holes are /tasty/? That's the kinda science I want to know." "I was gonna say it's more /colourful/ in a black hole than I'd've expected. 'Cept the things suck up /light/, so colourful makes sense, actually." Micah giggles as he peels another carrot to sacrifice to the Smoothie Singularity. "Well, they're a fleet in terrible peril. I think we can forgive 'em a little leakiness." He glances back at Jax's juice-covered hands with a subconscious little lick of his lips, a faint blush dusting across his cheeks perhaps betraying thoughts on just what is to be done about husbands being coated in delicious things. But...peeling. Definitely there is peeling carrots. "They're being /torn apart/ by a /black hole/ of course they're /leaking/," Spencer explains, wide-eyed and excited. "That's probably just all their fuel spilling out." "Gonna be fuelin' /you/ soon enough, sweetie, you wanna grab us some glasses for all this?" Jax tips his arm up, dipping his head to swipe his tongue up along the inside of his wrist. He leans over to take a carrot from Micah with a quick nose-crinkled smile, admitting, "... honestly I don't even know what this smoothie /is/ gonna taste like I'm jus' havin' fun making spaceships." "Can /all/ our smoothies be spaceships?" Spencer hops down off the stool to go retrieve a trio of glasses. "Uhhh. If we want to take two hours every time we make smoothies instead of ten minutes?" Jax answers this with a small giggle. "Yes, we'll hafta record all of this information an' use it t'improve hull integrity of spaceships in the future," Micah agrees with Spencer, giving a solemn little nod. "We're puttin' delicious things in, so prob'ly it'll be delicious? If the balance is off on the tastin', we can always chuck a few necessary things in later." He hands the carrots over, just looking thoughtful at what remains of the produce stash. "Maybe we should do the tastin' thing an' figure it 'fore we just toss everythin' in an got nothin' left t'tweak it with." His head tilts slightly, just watching Jax take care of the drips on his arm. "Okay!" Spencer agrees to this condition cheerfully, returning to set the glasses down beside the blender. "I got them sticky." "S'aright, I think /everything's/ a bit sticky. We'll jus' wash it all up after." Jax sets his knife down, tongue swiping up along the inside of his forearm again. His cheeks flush slightly darker under Micah's eyes, and he slides down off his stool, crooked smile still in place. He moves over to switch the blender off, pulsing it a few more times before uncapping it and pulling it off its base. He pours a little into a glass, wiggling it towards Spencer and Micah in offering. "Anyone want to guinea pig? It's, um. Kinda. Pink. Pink's an aright sign. Beets make everything pretty-colour." "It's just going to taste like black hole anyway." Spencer takes the glass, gulping down the mouthful of smoothie. Promptly he topples forward into the counter, hacking and coughing-spluttering, wide-eyed. "Yeah, everythin's covered in fruit juice, s'gonna be sticky 'til we clean up." Not that Micah's just watching Jax while he says this...though maybe he is. "Pink's a good thing for juice. Here's hopin' black holes are delicious?" He turns to observe Spencer's taste-test, somehow ending up looking both /concerned/ and /amused/ at the result. "Ohgosh, honey. Are you okay? S'it...not sweet enough, I'm guessin'?" He bites back the urge to giggle. Jax presses the back of his wrist to his lips, stifling a giggle too. "More strawberries maybe?" he wonders at the spluttering, squinting up an eye. Spencer wrinkles up his nose. Splutters some more, falling dramatically onto the counter and finally just slumping against it listlessly. "Peaches," he finally decides. "/And/ strawberry. Too /much/ beet." "They made good spaceship," Jax says apologetically. Though not /very/ apologetically; he is, admittedly, still -- maaaybe a little – giggling. "Not sweet enough," Micah concludes with a nod, laughter /very clear/ in his eyes even if he succeeds in not expressing it aloud. "What? Beet juice is good. An', yeah, it carved better. Peaches an' strawberries are kinda...squishy. But we can toss some in now." He moves back to his cutting board to pit more peaches. Jax picks his knife back up, digging the tops out of a few extra strawberries. "Beet juice is pretty excellent. Even if s'kinda bloody. Makes the black hole look more like a /war/ zone." "It /is/ a war zone. The whole /fleet/ went into it. Are those going to be ships too?" Spencer's head lifts to peer towards the new fruits that are being prepared. "I think these are just going to be fruits. My fingers are getting /kinda/ tired. An' sticky. An' strawberry-ships are squishy /an'/ teeny, they're the hardest ones. Mebbe if we froze 'em first next time," Jax muses. "We could toss some more jus' straight-up orange juice in if y'wanted it sweeter. Hmm." Spencer shakes his head. "Orange juice isn't a /spaceship/." "It is if you freeze it into a popsicle," Jax decides. "That could be a rocket, right?" "Mmm, bloody beets," Micah declares with an excessively wide smile. "Nope, these are gonna be /asteroids/," he declares of the peaches. "/That's/ space debris from what was left of the ships gettin' destroyed." He gestures to indicates the strawberry that Jax is beheading. "An' the orange juice is the /light/ of nearby stars gettin' pulled in as the black hole expands. S'gonna be epic /an'/ sweeter at the same time." Micah looks thoughtful for a moment. "Maybe next time we start with a full roster of things that get sucked into the black hole /before/ we start sendin' the fleet out." Jax sets the blender back on its base, setting the decapitated strawberries onto a cutting board. "/Even/ our smoothies 'round here are adventures." He recaps the blender, heading to the fridge after to retrieve a carton of orange juice. "Is this black hole sucking in all of /your/ light too?" Spencer eyes the blender dubiously, looking between it and Jax with pursed lips. "This could get pretty dangerous." "/Could/ get," Jax allows, "but I think we can handle it. Sometimes epic struggles is the price y'/pay/ for delicious smoothies." "You're not stronger than a black /hole/." Spencer scoffs at this. Though maybe with a small note of worry, his hand covering up the power button now just in case Jax was thinking of switching it back on. "Never a dull moment," Micah agrees with a grin, contributing another pair of peach-asteroids. "The black hole can't get t'your Pa's light. He's too far away from it here on Earth. S'eatin' the things that are nearest to it in space." He pats at Spencer's shoulder with his not-sticky forearm. "We can let you do the power button part just in case, though." "It's Saturday," Spencer wrinkles his nose, declining with a small shake of his head the offer of turning on the blender. Though now he's eying it suspiciously. "I ain't stronger than a black hole," Jax agrees easily, sliding the tray of fruit closer to Spencer, "but your Ba is right we're a billion miles away. Plus I still got a few hours a sun /left/, I'd just soak up plenty more energy /anyway/." Cautiously, Spencer removes his hand from the power button, leaning a little bit back against Micah. Jax tamps the blender's lid down into place firmly, switching it back on again. "/Okay/," Spencer can't really stay worried for long in the face of re-powered black hole, "there's a whole asteroid /belt/ getting sucked in too." He scoops up the peaches with both hands to topple them in. And the strawberries next. "It's kind of forming a new universe on the other side." "Fruit galaxy? /I'd/ live in that universe." Jax slips his thumb between his lips, sucking strawberry juice off of it as Spencer picks up the orange juice to pour some of that in, too. "Think s'ready /now/?" "This is how the universe was created," Spencer informs them seriously. Jax giggles. "Genesis got it all wrong." "Apologies, honey, m'sense of time ain't been the best lately," Micah replies softly to the reminder of Saturday. His arms wrap around Spence with that lean, careful not to get sticky-hands on the boy's clothing. Once the blender is back on, he lets him go to pour more fruit into the waiting blender. "Definitely wouldn't complain 'bout a smoothie universe. Sounds pretty sweet." Jax lets the blender run, finally switching it off to pour another taste for Spencer. He watches the boy veeery closely through this taste-test, this time. Spencer curls two sticky hands around the glass, taking a tiny cautious sip. Then gulping the rest of the drink down and holding the glass out for more. "/Whew/." Jax grins brightly, this time refilling the tumbler to the top. "Think we passed inspection this time 'round." He fills the other two glasses as well, setting the blender back on the counter afterwards and turning aside to start taking dishes off to the sink. "Smoothie universe sounds delicious an' sticky as /anything/." "I'd live there too." Spencer takes another happy gulp of his smoothie. "Can I take some to Karrie? /She/ likes peaches." Micah puts on a nervous-face watching Spence taste the concoction, letting out an exaggerated sigh when he holds his glass out for more. "We got more'n enough t'share, sure. Just...wipe down the glasses an' wash your hands 'fore takin' anythin' out of the kitchen. We don't wanna claim the rest of the school for Smoothie Universe without 'em volunteerin' t'join." He chuckles at this, rinsing off his gloves before moving to start putting unused ingredients away. "Sure, sweetie. S'plenty. You want to wipe down the counter 'fore you run off? We kinda made a mess." Jax rinses off his own hands and digs some spray for the countertop out from beneath the sink, setting it down on the counter. He starts in on the dishes, doing his own part to help pitch in and whittle down the mess they made. "OHright." Spencer sets his glass down, trotting over to stretch up onto his toes beside Jax, squeezing out some soap to wash his hands clean of their sticky coating of juice. "But I think the whole school would be pretty happy to join smoothie-verse." "Iiiii don't know about that. It's a kinda sticky 'verse. I've claimed the school in the name of glitter-universe accidentally before and they weren't too keen on /that/," Jax says with a small giggle. "You can't eat glitter," Spencer points out, still on his toes as he tiptoe-walks back to the counter, climbing up onto a stool to grab a pair of paper towels and spritz it before wiping it down. "Glitter an' stickiness, while fun sometimes.../kinda/ become permanent on some level." Micah giggles at this, his voice emerging from the open refrigerator where he's storing the orange juice and other cold ingredients. "I think they're considered a sometimes-food for most folks. Or...not-even-food in the case of glitter." The giggling continues as he finishes putting away the assorted remnants of fruits and veggies. "We got a bunch'a glitter-sugar in bakin' class. Then you can spread sticky /an'/ glitter at the same time," Jax says, laughing. "I -- don't know if that makes it /better/ though." Spencer finishes with the counter, throwing away the paper towels and -- offering the spray bottle back to Jax before Jax shifts aside to let Spence put it away himself. "Okay okay /now/ can I bring one to Karrie?" "Mmhmm. Now you can run off an' spread smoothie wherever y' -- well, so long as it stays /in/ the glasses," Jax amends quickly, nose crinkling up. Spencer just grins, at that, whisking his glass and one of the others off to promptly just /vanish/ with them. Jax turns aside, sponge still in hand and dripping soapy water onto the floor, his eye wider before he turns back to the last of his cutting boards. "-- I gotta stop freakin' out when he does that. He's prob'ly jus' gone up to the Rec Room." There's a distinct note of 'Right?' in his tone. "Glitter-sugar? I'm not sure how you're not just covered in that all the time." Micah smirks at Jax playfully. He pours smoothie into more glasses so that the blender can be cleaned as well. The blades and pitcher wait their turn by the sink while he wipes down the base with cleanser. "He's prob'ly fine. We can text 'im in a few minutes /just/ t'make sure. But...he's gotta get control of his ability eventually. An' he never will if he can't practice." He chews at his lip a bit. "Luci said he could do...either for me. He thinks he could teach me t'control the ability. It's a lot like his, just...on the receptive end. But that'd take a long time. The Professor an' folks 'round here with similar abilities might be able t'help, too. Luci also thinks he could just.../reboot/ m'head I guess. But that would prob'ly take a week or two so we don't kill /him/ in the process. So. S'far as that... It'd have t'wait. 'Til after things settle down from the raid, at least. I still don't...I don't know what's best. I just don't want Sublime connected t'me anymore. Luci says it's not m'head, it's the /leg/ he's connected to." A sheen of glitter-sugar grows along Jax's arms, spreading upwards to coat his skin in a sparkling crust of purple and green and blue crystals. "Maybe I am covered in it all the time an' I jus' hide it good." He takes the blender when it's placed by the sink, using the distraction of the simple physical task to focus on while Micah speaks. The sponge squeaks against the glass walls of the pitcher, his head just nodding along. His fingers are gripping the sponge very tight; he scrubs at the blender well longer than he needs to. By the time he sets it to dry it is very /thoroughly/ cleaned, gleaming where it sits. He shuts the faucet off, flicking water from his fingers before he turns to face Micah. "That's -- that's good, though, right? I don't -- I don't mean the leg, that's. Creepy, but maybe. Maybe we can deal with that on. On /Sublime's/ end. But on /your/ end, that's -- that's /good/, Micah, right?" There's /hope/ in his voice, soft and nervous-shaky. "That's -- that means you got /options/ here -- don't -- don't it? /Choices/ on -- on what to –" Micah eyes the glitter illusion, briefly distracted himself. "Ohmy/gosh/, I just wanna bite you right now." He leans back against the counter next to him. "It's...yeah, there's choices. I'm not sure what they're plannin' t'do with Sublime, though. /If/ things can be taken care of on his end short of /killin'/ 'im. The Professor didn't seem t'think he had a way t'shut his abilities off permanently." He chews at his lip again. "It's hard not knowin' everythin'. I don't want this connection with that man. And not knowin' if there's any way t'be rid of it but t'take the leg off is hard. Also...Rasa's had hir power how long? An' ze still ain't got control of it. Not knowin' how long it'll /take/ is hard, too. An' it affects /you/, too, honey. This isn't...we gotta discuss it. This ain't somethin' I can decide all on m'own. It ain't fair for me t'do that t'all of you." There is a pause as Micah takes a long, slow breath, perhaps considering his phrasing. "Then there's...how much of this help's comin' from Luci. I never know how much...anythin' with him. Comes of bein' a friend an' how much is gonna get real expensive real fast. Just the...him fixin' m'head if there's a surgery. If it's only /one/ hour every day for two weeks? At his rates... That's a lot. An' the trainin' option. That could be /more/ in the long run. Who knows how long that would take? An' in the meantime, it's... A lot. Of not touchin' you...or anybody." Jax raises a hand, sugar-encrusted arm lifting towards Micah with a small upwards curl of fingers; the light glitters off the crystals as he giggles. "Wouldn't be near as sweet as it looks, I washed off all the juice. Prob'ly jus' a little bit soapy." His head tips downwards, and he exhales a slow breath at the question of what to do with Sublime, head shaking. "We sure ain't gonna be able t'keep him here forever. Not even a whole lot longer, I don't think. And --" His lips press together, a small ripple of light flickering around him. "Everyone's learnin' curve is different. But -- yeah. It could take a long time. Could take years. Could -- I mean, look at Hive. An' to be fair to Hive, a whole lotta his deal is that Prometheus messed with his head in a bad way an' the chip in his skull's done a number on his fine-tunin' but /even/ so, there /are/ telepaths that /don't/ never learn to filter out a hundred-percent'a the noise." Slowly, Jax's fingers curl inwards towards his palm, his hand dropping back to his side. "... an' when some'a that noise is -- is /me/." His head turns towards Micah, the breath he draws in slow and deep. "... I don't know how long it'd take. But /whatever/ gets you back to where you want to be, honey-honey, it'd be /worth/ it. If he can help, it'd -- I'd paint till all my /fingers/ done fall /off/ if it meant gettin' you back to -- I mean, two hours with him an' we already got more options on the table than you thought you had yesterday. That's /hope/, Micah. That's worth somethin'. That's worth /everything/." "I stand by m'statement," Micah counters the concern of Jax's potential flavours. "What /can/ they do with 'im? They can't just send 'im out there t'start this horror show all over again. Completely independent of all of us he's still connected to. He can't be allowed t'just go usin' his ability the way he did /ever/ again. An' it ain't like we can just tell the cops. I shudder t'think what'd happen if the government /did/ learn what he could do an' got their hands on 'im. He's /doin'/ what they been /tryin'/ with Prometheus forever." He shudders at this. "Elliott wanted t'help. She wanted t'use the story of what happened with this t'try an' throw her weight around politically an' help the cause for people with special abilities. But I told her not to. 'Cause I'm more afraid of what'd happen from people /knowin'/. I was s'posed t'ask folks what t'do 'bout that but I'm not even sure /who/. Who gets t'make that kinda decision?" Micah backs away from the bigger picture concerns, from the big decisions for groups of people down to just his own. He drops his cleaning supplies and moves to wrap an arm around Jax. "Honey, I need t'know what's right for you, too. An' the kids. It's not like I'm off on m'own, livin' in that van by m'self anymore. What happens t'me affects people. An'...y'all have already been through /so much/ just 'cause I made...stupid decisions. Not thinkin' things'd be as bad as they got, when I should /know/ better by now." He pauses, another heavy breath, another tighter squeeze of his arm around Jax's shoulders. "I don't need the noise t'go /away/. I just need it t'be...tolerable. T'where it don't take over m'mind whenever I... T'where /I/ can still be in control. I figure I can't do nothin' with the surgical option 'til after this raid. 'Til after everythin' settles down from it, 'cause I'm gonna be takin' care of things from this end, an' the kids, an' the first aid, an' the refugees... In the meantime, I could try the trainin'. With Luci an' the Professor an'...whoever else I can get t'show me /anythin'/. Any minute that I ain't spendin' on work an' family things an' I can get someone t'teach me. That'd maybe help me know how much I can /change/ things m'self." "Wait. /Elliott Carruthers/ wanted t'help /our/ cause an' you said not to?" Jax's eye widens, baffled. "But she coulda --" He blinks, lowering his gaze. The crystals along his arm shift to pink, yellow. Purple, still. His arm curls across his chest, fingers skimming across his opposite arm. He leans into Micah's touch with a shivery exhalation that is very nearly a sob, head tipping forward to rest on Micah's shoulder. "/You're/ right for me. I jus' -- I jus' /need/ you. But I don't know if that's gonna -- I've knowed Hive years an' I'm still mad painful for him. For /every/ telepath I know. An' you can get used to it but it ain't gonna --" He swallows, hard. "... I jus' want t'be able to kiss you without /hurtin'/ you, Micah. An' right now I'm terrified I won't never be able to." "I gave her Io's information for 'em t'work on gettin' the Clinic expanded for starters, 'cause that they could go on just...what's /been/ happenin'. The bombin' at the Lofts. All the surgeries they've had t'do. I just...didn't want t'tell her she could run with the whole Sublime story for...whatever else she thought she could do. Didn't feel like /I/ had the right t'make that decision on everyone's behalf. 'Specially not if it'd start raisin' questions 'bout where Sublime is an'... D'you think that was wrong? I can always call her..." Micah pulls Jax to him, crushing the other man against him as firmly as his arms will allow. "Oh...honey, I miss you, too. I don't...know how any of this works, but. Luci touches you. I've seen 'im an' he doesn't...seem like he can't /think/ anymore. Or like he's avoidin' you 'cause it hurts. Maybe he knows somethin' that I don't, that Hive don't. Hive's just.../on/ all the time. Maybe he could /specifically/ help just with...this. Specifically." "Luci ain't a telepath, though. So s'different for him. He don't have t'look at my /thoughts/. Don't hafta -- live with how messed /up/ I am." Jax shivers, pressing closer to Micah. His glitter-encrusted arms wrap around the other man, tight. He presses his face against his husband's shoulder, his own shoulders trembling. "But if he can help you with. Any of this. That's a good thing. M'jus' glad if -- if he -- if he." His fingers scrunch into Micah's back, gripping there hard. "I mean, I'm gonna be here for you whatever decision you make." "Hey, you ain't /messed up/, honey. I can hear your thoughts, that don't...I /like/ knowin' what you're thinkin'. I love /you/, honey. Not just the idea of you." Micah leans down to kiss Jax's shoulder where it is covered by the cloth of his shirt. "It's just...loud? An' bright. An' when y'ain't slept in weeks it's louder an' brighter an' I can...feel that. Ain't no kinda /messed up/. I just think your ability reflects in the way your mind /feels/ an' that just gets magnified more'n more as you're usin' it t'keep you /alive/ 'stead of doin' things a body usually needs. Like sleepin'. I don't mind hearin' your thoughts or feelin' what y'feel. It just...is overwhelmin' right now. The way it presents." "M'brain is always kinda. Loud. An' bright." Jax's nose crinkles up uncomfortably. "Like before all the light-bendin' started my folks jus' kept takin' me to the doctor on account'a we thought somethin' was goin' wrong with my /eyes/? Because I started /seein'/ things wrong an' it was excruciatin' an' migrainey and that never -- stopped. Only now my thoughts is murder on telepaths I guess cuz /I/ gotten so used to seein' the world -- way /different/ than most people an' -- I don't think that's a real pleasant place to be. I mean jus' to /look/ at even without. Gettin' into what I'm actually thinkin'." He exhales heavily, scrunching his hands tighter into Micah's shirt. "... should maybe get back to the room," he mumbles, "they're gonna start dinner eventually." Though he's not moving. Just clinging tight. "I'd raise whatever money it took, you know. If Lucien could. /Either/ way. Get you whatever control you wanted. /Or/ if you chose surgery an' he could get you how you was." He breathes out a small laugh before the admission, "... though I hope he's got some kinda payment plan. Even just today's consult was. Kinda. Painful." "But you got used to it, so that means it's possible t'do. That means that I could, /too/. Just through...exposure an' maybe this trainin' an'. We'll know more. I'll try all the trainin' I can /do/ 'til things settle down after the raid. An' if it ain't enough, then...we can try the surgery an' just hope t'/everythin'/ that that /works/. That it gets rid of all the Sublime /stuff/ an' the ability. That Luci /can/ put m'brain back the way he thinks he can." Micah nods at the reminder that the kitchen will soon be busy. "Yeah, we should--" He tips his forehead down to rest on Jax's shoulder, cheeks /notably/ bright red before he manages to tuck in there. "Oh. I didn't know he was... Even. Already. We was just /talkin'/ an'... He didn't mention." "For -- some value of used t'it, I guess? You done felt my head. It only kinda-partially hurts on account'a you ain't used t'it. It kinda-partially hurts on account'a I'm almost always /in/ pain." Jax shrugs a shoulder, his grip relaxing, slightly. "'least if it's been sunnier. I don't -- really want t'hafta -- /expose/ you to --" His nose crinkles up, teeth sinking down against his lip as he pulls back just slightly. His brow furrows, gaze tipping down towards Micah. "Huh? How did he not -- I mean, he said he'd get in touch with you t'set up an -- he clearly /did/ set up an, I mean, you /got/ t'gether with him so he musta made an appointment with you." Micah nods, a subtle sort of motion with his head resting on Jax's shoulder already. "I love you, honey. I can learn how t'handle it. A little /discomfort/ ain't nothin' if it means I still get t'be with you." So much for tucking his head down, the red creeps into his ears and neck, as well. "I mean, he called... An' said you'd been talkin' to 'im 'bout what was goin' on an he wanted t'set up a time t'see me 'cause y'was worried an' thought he could help. But. I guess I just didn't. Understand. What that... I prob'ly should've known, though. It's just. Stupid. Sometimes I'm stupid about people. Sorry." His words are mostly mumbles by the time he's done talking. Jax shakes his head, slipping his arm into Micah's. He tugs gently at the other man's arm, starting to lead him towards the door. By way of the end of the counter, so they can pick up the last glasses of smoothie for drinking. "Why are you apologizin', honey? It's okay, I /had/ the -- I mean, like I said. He opened up options for you. Giving you some hope in all this? That's worth pretty much anythin'." Giving up on just hiding in Jax's shoulder when the other man moves, Micah follows the tugging. Though the /red/ isn't getting any better. "I just. While we were talkin'. He kept...touchin' an' kissin' an'...it's not like we /hadn't/ done any of that before, so I didn't think... Anythin' of it, really. An' I /can/...touch 'cause his mind's so /blank/ all the time. But I didn't. Get it. 'Cause I'm stupid with people. So I'm apologisin' for the ongoin'...stupid. S'been a theme for me this month." His teeth snag hold of his lower lip and worry at it. "Oh." Jax's lips twitch just for a moment, his eye slipping sideways to Micah. He picks up one of the smoothie glasses to hand it to Micah, taking the other for himself before continuing towards the door. "Why is that stupid? I mean, why -- are you apologizin', still? Touchin' is good. Y'ain't had /near/ enough of that lately. An' you /can/ with him. That's /good/, right? You've /needed/ that, kinda bad." "I've just...told 'im before. That I didn't want...not that way. It's stupidly sentimental just...I don't want anyone t'be with me that way 'cause of money. Is all. An' that wasn't what...when y'was settin' that up wasn't /for/...that." Micah's hand grips a little too-tight on the glass. "I should've figured it out, though. He's not usually so...demonstrative. So I should've known. I guess I just didn't want to, so that's my own fault. Sorry, it's all...stupid. I should stop talkin'. He'll be glad we've got more work for 'im. I make a good project, apparently." "No, I was -- settin' it up so y'all could talk about --" Jax frowns, stopping just inside the kitchen door. "But you've been so cut off from people an' he's -- I mean, is it /bad/ if you /also/ got a chance to --" He turns around, brows creasing in abrupt concern as he looks down at Micah's hand. Back up at Micah's face. "... oh. Gosh. Wait. Did y'all -- oh." Now his cheeks flush deep red, and he swallows, looking down at his toes. "I mean, I didn't -- it ain't stupid to have boundaries, Micah, an' I didn't -- /I'm/ sorry, I honestly didn't -- I mean, /I/ thought you knowed what was. Goin' on, I just. Asked him to set up an appointment, I didn't. I'm sorry." Micah winces at Jax's sudden realisation, the red dominating his features only growing stronger. He nods slightly, looking down at the glass in his hand. "No. Honey, no. Y'don't got nothin' t'apologise for. You was just tryin' t'help. The only person t'blame for any of this is me. I just...didn't get it. I kinda make bad choices...a lot. S'how I ended up in this mess t'begin with. So /I'm/ sorry. Didn't nobody else do nothin' wrong." "No. I just." The red in Jax's face continues to burn, his free hand lifting to press to his cheek as his expression crumples into something -- a little bit distraught. A little bit sickened. "Because I -- I think I -- I mean I kinda -- /wanted/ you to --" His teeth sink in against his lower lip, eye screwing up tight. "I mean, I didn't ask him to make that appointment t'sleep with you, I asked him to make it t'/talk/ with you. But I'd be lyin' if I said I wasn't -- a little bit /hoping/ that y'all would -- because you /can/ touch him an' you ain't been able to with nobody else -- only now I feel like I done /tricked/ you into -- crossin' a line you weren't comfortable with an' that /so/ weren't -- even slightly my intention I jus' --" His knuckles press hard against his lips, a brief twist of shadow curling around him. "I -- am so sorry, I -- never meant to –" Micah's brows knit tight at Jax's expression. He sets his glass back down on the counter to free his arms up to wrap around the other man tight. "No. No, honey. Y'didn't do nothin' wrong. Y'didn't /intend/ nothin'. Weren't anythin' a secret or trickery or nothin'. I think everybody just thought I knew...somethin' I prob'ly should've. But I... Like I been sayin'. I'm stupid with people sometimes. It shoulda been clear. Prob'ly anybody else would've...understood what was... Please. Don't think I'm sayin' or thinkin' or even /feelin'/ that y'did anythin' wrong, okay? I'm just...disappointed. With m'self, I think. Is all. Y'got no control over what goes on in m'head. An' that's where...all this is. It's just me, okay? Nobody else did nothin'." Jax curls his arm around Micah, leaning in to his husband and squeezing tightly. He turns his face down, burying it against the older man's chest. "... I jus'. Wanted." His voice is thicker, a little choked. More than a little pained, the twist of shadow curling darker. "...'cuz he could give you. What I /can't/. An' I --" He breaks off, pressing his face harder against Micah's shirt, his arm curling tighter. "I love you." "Shh, don't...don't, honey. Y'didn't do nothin' but try t'help. An' y'/did/ help. We got plans now we didn't have before, don't we?" Micah holds Jax close and runs his hands over Jax's back in soothing circles. "You give me plenty. Ohgosh... There's... I don't know what I'd /do/ without you. I love you. You're the most important thing in the world t'me. Please don't think for a second you aren't enough for me, 'cause you /are/. I love you." He leans in to kiss Jax again, a line of little kisses along his clothed shoulder. "I love you an' /this/ is real. An' that means /so much/ more t'me than..." He just shakes his head, kissing Jax's shoulder again. The curl of shadow darkens further, a thick black cloud wrapping around Jax's form as he presses in against Micah. His shoulders tremble, his grip on his husband staying tight. "But it ain't. Enough. You deserve so much -- more than --" His breath catches, and he pulls back, the shadows fading away into nothing as he drops his hand. He lifts the glass to take a slow drink of the melting smoothie, his words quivery-unsteady and Micah's shirt damp where he's been leaning but his expression calm and eye apparently dry. "Right. We was goin'. Up. Upstairs." "No, I /don't/," Micah replies firmly, arms staying tight-curled around Jax, supportive. "I don't know how I /got/ so lucky that I get t'love you an' you love me /back/. An' I wouldn't trade that for anythin'." His still plastic-gloved hand moves up to pet at the back of Jax's neck and head. It might be just a /little/ sticky, despite rinsing. "You will /always/ be enough for me. Apparently I'm not sayin' it enough, or not showin' it enough, but I /love/ you." He tilts his head to nuzzle against Jax's cheek with a spot provided enough protection by his hair to avoid actual skin contact. "I love /you/. An' if touchin's a little hard for awhile? We can get past that. There's /so/ many worse things. Like /not/ havin' you." He kisses the front of Jax's shoulder again, over the yellow fabric there. "An' /you/ are goin' through this just as much as I am. An' you're so strong. An' only worryin' 'bout /me/. It's as much about you as it is me, honey. You're just...so much stronger with it. So please don't say things like that. I love /you/. I deserve /you/...or at least try to." "I'm sorry," Jackson whispers, his voice slightly strained. "You're right, m'sorry. There's -- worse things an' I. shouldn't. Be. I just. It's hard to. I miss." He lifts his glass again, pressing the cold glass to his lips hard. His fingers squeeze tight around it, his eye scrunching shut. "I love you. So much an' that -- should be enough I jus' -- I." He rocks slowly back onto his heels, then up onto his toes. Back onto his heels again. "Can we go up to the room, please? I really don't. Like cryin' where students come through." "Shh, don't...apologise, honey. You done nothin' wrong at all." Micah kisses both of his shoulders, near the collarbones. "Y'know if /you/ need...someone who can touch you more'n I can right now. Y'can do that, too? Ain't no reason you shouldn't be able to. This is /my/...issue. If y'wanna be with other people, that's always been okay." He gives Jax one last hug before gathering his glass again in one hand, taking Jax's free hand in the other to lead him upstairs. "Okay, honey. We can go. But you talk as much as y'need to, okay? I wanna know what's goin' on with /you/, too. An' what /you/ need." Jax squeezes Micah's hand tightly, practically fleeing the kitchen to head up through the school. He sticks close to Micah's side for the trip, quiet as they go, conversation stalling -- possibly because of the few other residents they pass in the halls. It's only once they've made it back to their suite with the door firmly shut behind them that he turns back inward, pressing his forehead briefly against Micah's shoulder before moving to sit heavily on the edge of the bed. "Bein' with other people ain't never -- I mean, before you I barely --" His cheeks flush deep crimson, his hands wrapping around his glass. Here in the privacy of their room the illusion is fading from his face, blotchier, now, tear-streaked, his eye red-rimmed. "You're my husband. This ain't /your/ issue. Kinda. /Our/ issue." Micah abandons his glass again, setting it on a coaster on the table before joining Jax, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Okay, honey... Just, whatever you /want/. I wanted t'make sure y'knew it was okay." He quickly swaps his gloves out, plastic kitchen gloves for softer grey cloth ones. Scooting closer to Jax, he tucks the other man in snugly against his side, arm curled around him. "Honey, if y'need me t'make this go away. The best chance of it's the surgery, an' a healer, an' Lucien's help after. I can set that up t'happen as soon as I can get all the players in place. I was gonna wait 'til after this raid, so I could help, but... /You/ are more important t'me than that. These raids been goin' on without me for years. I'm sure the team'll get by. An' I can still do what I can from a chair for a few weeks. We can prob'ly make this happen...tomorrow night on the faster end. Almost certainly by Tuesday. You say the word an' I'll make the calls. Arrange the people. Figure out payin' Lucien." "I want /you/. I mean, even when I /am/ -- sort of interested in other people? I don't --" Jax flushes dark again, lifting a hand to touch fingertips lightly to the collar around his neck. "Outside'a the context of -- bein' yours /too/ it jus' don't. Often have the same appeal to me, I. Know it's /okay/ I jus' don't usually want to. If y'ain't there." The red is spreading out to tint the air around him, and he leans heavily into Micah's side, cheek glistening still with a fresh spill of tears. "No -- no. Now his voice is a little hoarser, his head shaking emphatically. "I ain't tryin' to make this -- /about/ me I didn't mean to -- say I needed you to just rush into -- I'll be okay," he insists very abruptly, wiping the back of his hand against his face. "Think I jus' get more stressed when these raids is comin' up, it'll pass." "You don't have to, honey. I just wanted t'make sure y'knew y'got the choice, right?" Micah reaches for Jax's hand, holding it in his own, bringing them up to his lips but placing the kiss to the back of his /own/ hand. The intention is there if not the direct contact. "This /is/ about you, too, though. It's exactly...what Shane was sayin'. 'Bout us always puttin' other people's needs first. I was only puttin' off doin' this 'cause it'll take me out of commission for awhile, once I found out it was an option. I told you before I want nothin' more'n t'make it all go away. T'put things back the way they were. An' this is the way t'do it. It's what /I/ want an' it's what you need an' I shouldn't put it off just 'cause there's more trouble comin' up. There's /always/ more trouble comin' up. An' you /are/ stressed. I should be able t'/help/ you with that, not make it worse." Lifting their hands again, he places another kiss against the fabric of his glove. "Y'don't gotta ask. I'll make the calls." Jax just looks down, eye locking on the smoothie glass still held in his other hand. He lifts it slowly to take a sip, then sets it aside to the nightstand. His hand drops to his knee, gaze transferring over to where Micah's hand holds his, his breathing slow and forcibly calm. He manages a small stiff nod, but it's only when Micah says that this option is what /he/ wants that his gaze lifts again, locking on his husband's face with a sudden widening of eye, a small catch of breath. His fingers squeeze tight around Micah's, and /he/ leans in to press a kiss to the back of the other man's gloved knuckles, fresh tears sliding again from his eye. He slides down off the mattress, dropping to his knees at Micah's feet, his forehead tipping forward to press to his husband's knees as his shoulders shake with quiet sobs. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, honey, it shouldn't've ever been a question. I'm just slow sometimes t'see things." Micah's hands pet at Jax's head, as if to stroke at hair that is no longer there. He slides forward in his seat, as close as he can get to Jax without moving to the floor beside him, hands moving to tilt the other man's chin upward. He leans down, pressing kisses to the cheek the tears cross, then moving to bring his lips to meet Jax's.