ArchivedLogs:All The Sugar

All The Sugar
Dramatis Personae Micah, Arturo, Jax
In Absentia	13 July 2014 Taking some time /away/.
Location <NYC> Evolve Cafe - Lower East Side
Spacious and open, this coffeeshop has a somewhat industrial feel to it, grey resin floors below and exposed-beam ceilings that have been painted up in a dancing swirl of abstract whorls and starbursts, a riot of colour splashed against a white background. The walls alternate between brick and cheerfully lime-green painted wood that extends to the paneling beneath the brushed-steel countertops. There's an abundance of light, though rather than windows (which are scarce) it comes from plentiful hanging steel lamps. The walls here are home to plentiful artwork available for sale; though the roster of prints and paintings and drawings and photographs changes on a regular basis it has one thing in common -- all the artists displayed are mutants. The seating spaced around the room is spread out enough to keep the room from feeling cluttered. Black chairs, square black tables that mostly seat two or four though they're frequently pushed around and rearranged to make space for larger parties. In the back corner of the room is more comfortable seating, a few large black-corduroy sofas and armchairs with wide tables between them. There's a shelf of card and board games back here available for customers to sit and play. The chalkboard menus hanging behind the counter change frequently, always home to a wide variety of drinks (with an impressive roster of fair-trade coffees and teas largely featured) though their sandwiches and wraps and soups and snacks of the day change often. An often-changing variety of baked goods sit behind the display case at the counter halfway back in the room, and the opposite side of the counter holds a small selection of homemade ice creams. A pair of single-user bathrooms flanks the stairway in back of the cafe; at night, the thump of music can be heard from above, coming from the adjoining nightclub of the same name that sits up the stairs above the coffeehouse. The day is growing late into evening, the departing sun spilling reds and oranges across the clouds in the sky, still hanging low with the threat of rain after spits and sprinkles all day. Much of the talk on the streets is focused on that big sportsball game of the day. Evolve is still doing brisk enough business, people gathered mostly in twos and threes at tables and lounging on couches. Late Sunday is not the usual rush for caffeine or the bustling night club crowd. Micah is dressed weekend casual in sneakers, faded bluejeans, an olive newsboy cap, and a black T-shirt on which a Starry Night inspired sky has the addition of an Impressionist Serenity flying through it. He looks like he has spent some time outside, a little damp about the temples from the intermittent drizzles combined with a bit of sweat from the humid-heat that came along with it. He ambles up to the line to wait, pulling out his phone to glance at it as he stands. Arturo is already seated at a table that has three free seats. There's a half eaten bagel with cream cheese by his elbow. He's raising a cup of coffee to his mouth, brow mightily furrowed as he considers something in a magazine. The cover is folded over so the subject of the magazine is not readily apparent. Sportsball does not usually figure heavily on Jax's radar though scheduling a mandatory training for his team in direct /conflict/ with the big sportsball game today no doubt earned him at least a /few/ prickly feelings. At the least, he looks slightly run-down by the time the weekend has ended -- possibly quite /glad/ to get away from the Commons and the crowd there. It's been a bigger crowd than usual, with his trainings scheduled, the refugee labrats joined by a number of unfamiliar faces -- old team members in semi-retirement who answered the threat of never being able to come /out/ of retirement by showing up, in some cases from rather far away. Now that things are over he's just dressed like he's ready for /bed/. Soft purple yoga pants, a black t-shirt that reads 'be nice to sex workers :)' in hot pink text across its front, rainbow tie-died cast still on his leg from the knee down as he crutches his way into Evolve. He hobbles his way over to his husband, fitting himself into line with a light peck to Micah's cheek. "Okay," he announces with a lopsided grin, "Now I'm ready for the weekend t'start." A broad-bright smile springs to Micah's features as Jax arrives right on schedule. He add to the light peck with a tight-squeezy hug, smelling of soil and sweat and green growing things over the fainter remnants of citrus-spice soaps and shampoos. “Yeah, y'had a rather packed schedule,” he concurs ruefully. “At least there's a /little/ Sunday left t'work with? We should get y'somethin' extra-nice... S'a number of vegan milkshakes on tonight. I was lookin' at this mint-chocolate-fudge one, m'self...” And good timing, since they're right up to the front of the line by now. Micah puts in his order and gestures with one upturned palm for Jax to give his. Arturo is so distracted by whatever it is he's reading that he lowers his mug and releases it. Normally this would not be a problem, but he does it a good inch /off/ the side of the table. The mug and the bit of coffee left shatters and splooshes against the ground. His whole body tenses and he lets out a little sound of shock. Well. That was more than a little stupid. Jax winces at the sound of the shattering glass, turning to glance across towards Arturo's table; there's a reflexive shift of motion that suggests his /instinct/ is to go help but -- well. /Crutches/. The look he flashes at Micah is apologetic even just for the brief overture towards helping and he very much stays /put/ on his casted leg, giving the barista -- kind of short-staffed behind the counter on his own -- a sheepish smile. "Ack, 'pologies, Tak, you can hold off on our order if y'want to -- help out with --" He waves a hand towards Arturo's table. "I'm gonna get a mocha shake an' a lavender cupcake only but we can wait, ain't no rush." Jax's wince is nothing compared to that of the twenty-something young Japanese man behind the counter. “Ah/man/, and Ravenna called out tonight. We didn't have anybody to cover, so it's just been,” Tak gestures toward himself and the bar to give his meaning. “Don't worry 'bout it, hon. I know m'way 'round a broom an' mop s'well as anybody. You keep on keepin' on here so the natives don't get restless waitin' on their orders. I got it. Y'give Ravenna m'best when y'talk to her, too, okay?” Micah is already making his way toward the broom closet before he finishes his last sentence, slipping in like he's /supposed/ to be there to grab the necessary equipment for handling the mess. He slides over to the table, broom and deep long-handled dustpan collecting the broken ceramic first before plying mop and bucket to the coffee spill. “S'okay, hon. Nothin' a little 'clean-up on aisle five' can't handle. I'll save your table if y'needed t'go order a refill.” Arturo was so deep in his own world that he doesn't seem to know what to do with the broken mug. He stands there rather helplessly until Micah comes over. "I'm...sorry. At least it wasn't a full cup?" He kicks over a few of the bigger pieces towards the bulk of the mess. "This little accident tells me that I should probably go for a walk to clear my head." He rubs at his face and sighs. Then he grabs a handful of napkins and tries to sop up the coffee. It's sort of pointless because the napkins get saturated in seconds. Jax gives Takeshi a sympathetic look, sliding his wallet out of his pocket once Micah goes to help with the mess. "Yikes. Hope things ain't been /too/ super hectic tonight anyway. I kinda accidentally booked Shane's time for half the day else m'sure he woulda been in t'help." He pays for their drinks, looking over towards Micah and Arturo once the barista has gone to start preparing the shakes. Drifting closer, a look of recognition passes across his face -- together with a deep blush. "Oh. Oh, gosh, hi. You want a refill on that or anythin'? You -- looked a little --" But he breaks off here, blush only deepening and the end of his sentence falling off into nothing. "Oh, sugar, no, s'good. I got the tools for the job over here. Don't worry yourself. S'good." Micah waves Arturo and his napkins back, the mop making quick work of the small spill. "We all get distracted sometimes. Accidents happen." He takes a moment to dispose of the broken mug and sodden napkins in a trash can before putting up the cleaning equipment. After a quick handwashing, he returns to Jax and Arturo at the table. "See? All better now. Though you're kinda out a coffee, so...that part not as much better. But easily remedied." Arturo blinks at Jax. It only takes a half a second for recognition to kick in, and by association, Micah as well. He blinks and stands a bit straighter. "Oh, hey. Both of you. Hey. No, honestly, I'm fine." He motions to the little bit of coffee splatter left from the shattered mug. "It was nearly empty and cold anyway. I was reading an article and was trying to figure out if someone used my research without citing me. Potential outrage plus deep technical thought apparently makes me clumsy." He half-grins awkwardly and clears his throat. "Oh -- oh. What kinda research, I didn't know you were --" Jax's blush isn't actually fading, nose crinkling up awkwardly with the follow-up, "-- well. Anything. About you actually um. That sounds kinda bad though? Is there something you can do about that, if they did?" “Hi,” Micah says, cheeks reddening faintly at having forgotten much of a greeting while he was playing janitor. “Medical,” he answers Jax, eyebrows knitted. “Y'can complain t'the journal it's published in, for starters. These kindsa things are taken rather seriously.” "Little more complicated than that. The author can claim she came to the same conclusions independently. If I wanted to prove it, I'd have to get a lawyer. And considering there's not exactly a ton of money in suing people for not citing properly..." Arturo shrugs, then sighs. "Yeah, medical. Specifically, mutant diagnostic medicine. I...oh shit." He pulls out his phone and checks the time. "Shit. Shit. I'm sorry. I have to go. I have a shift starting in half an hour and it's a 35 minute bus ride away." He fishes around in his pocket and pulls out a five. He drops it on the counter and slips his phone back into his pocket. "Have a good day, both of you!" He lifts a hand, then darts out, leaving the magazine behind. There's a small jumpy twitch in Jax's cheek at this information, his smile just a little bit tighter. "Not a whole lotta people /in/ that kinda. Research. -- well. Not out /here/ there ain't." He's glancing down towards the magazine when their order is called; his eye shifts away and to the counter. "Ohgosh sugar. I need /all/ the sugar." He picks up the magazine, stumping over to the next table over to take a seat rather than heading back to the counter since -- he can't carry two drinks and his cupcake all at once /anyway/. Instead he just glances at the page Arturo had been looking at, then pulls out his phone to flick open its browser. "Usually the publication will do the investigatin' into an allegation. They want to keep up their reputation as an honest, scientifically rigorous, peer-reviewed publication, after all. It's worth bringin' to their attention." Then Arturo is off at a rush, and Micah just lifts a hand in farewell. He needs to return to the counter and collect their order, after all, which he delivers to the table where Jax is seated. "One 'all the sugar' as requested," he announces with a playful grin, setting the items in front of Jax before settling himself into the chair across from his husband. "Author's not no face I recognize anyhow. Not -- sure why I thought it might be. Just --" Jax sets his phone down, shaking his head as if to clear it and then turning an equally playful grin on Micah at the sugar delivery. He slides his hand across the table to take not the milkshake but his husband's hand. "M'sure the shake'll be great, too." "Thought it might be one of /Them/?" Micah shudders a little at that. Then he lets the grin creep back across his lips, hand taking Jax's where it reaches for him. "I did say /all/ the sugar, didn't I? Wouldn't want no false advertisin'." He leans in, brushing kisses first to Jax's knuckles, then the back of his hand, his palm, the inside of his wrist, before tugging him in for a slower-deeper kiss to the lips. Jax shrugs a shoulder, glancing briefly back to the magazine before folding it closed and switching his phone screen /off/. "Well. They do got the huge /bulk/'a the personnel when it comes t'mutant medicine. Just in quiet-like. The Clinic may be the first open mutant medicine place but Prometheus must have hundred times their staff an' then --" And then he is cut off by kiss, leaning into it gratefully. His other hand curls up against the back of Micah's head, his fingers sliding into the other man's hair. His smile has brightened immensely by the time he breaks off -- enough to tinge the air around him with a soft glow. "Oh gosh no that ain't even fair we jus' /got/ here an' you're makin' me want to head home already. Only I come to get /away/ from there." And /yet/ he is leaning back in for another kiss, soft and lingering as well. Micah's smile at the glow coming from Jax is likely felt against his husband's lips before it is visible between kisses. "We can stay long enough t'have a change of scenery. Finish a couple treats. Then head home. Night's /young/ yet," he is still explaining when the next kiss comes, effectively silencing him except for a soft sigh of a moan at the fingers in his hair. His grin is pulled lopsided by the time that kiss breaks off, as well. "Who's not fair now?" "Well that one was jus' t'get even," Jax explains, expression so /very/ serious on the subject of Fairness. Of course, this Getting Even doesn't explain the next kisses, pressed lightly in a trailing line down the side of Micah's neck before he /finally/ drops his hand from Micah's neck to pull back and pull his milkshake close. His other hand keeps hold of Micah's, though, thumb brushing slowly against the backs of the other man's knuckles. "Night is young. If it weren't for the rain I'd want t'wander a bit. Home is -- so very -- full of." His nose crinkles up slightly, cheeks flushing red. "-- potential accidental eavesdroppin' you know it ain't even only that /I/ feel awkward I jus' feel /bad/ for people with sharp senses or telepathy they can't turn off. 'least Dr. Toure'll be through with /his/ work an' /Hive/ can have a li'l peace an' quiet." It doesn't explain those kisses to his neck, but the /kisses/ explain the sudden intake of breath followed by a long, slightly trembly sigh. "Definitely you winnin' the unfair award," Micah declares after, sitting back in his seat and cooling himself off with a long drink of milkshake. "Y'wanna spend some time out? Got another couple of hours 'fore Spence needs puttin' t'bed. Sure we could find someplace t'be that's more private." His hand squeezes gently at his husband's. "S'important t'have a little mental break from time t'time when things get that crowded." Jax dips his head for a drink of milkshake, too, humming quietly happy at the first mouthful. "I would so love t'spend some time out. S'been a kinda intense weekend, y'know? We had a lotta folk come back who I ain't -- seen in person in a /bit/ an' --" His head shakes, and he picks one-handed at the wrapper to his cupcake, starting to peel it a little before he breaks off a pinch to eat. "An' comin' straight off the heels'a the cops' nonsense it's --" He lifts Micah's hand, here, not finishing the thought but just pressing his lips to the other man's fingers. "Be nice t'have a minute t'ourselves somewhere." Micah takes a moment just to let the minty-creamy-chocolate melt on his tongue after his next pull through the straw. "Yeah, you've had a lot on your plate. Even more'n usual. An' you're still /hurt/ besides." He watches Jax work at the cupcake. "Depends what kinda 'to ourselves' y'want. Could get an umbrella an' go walkin'. Could just drive the van somewhere secluded an' park it. Ain't a ton of /space/ t'that plan, though, so I don't know if it'd fit the bill for gettin' y'feelin' less crowded. Rent a room somewhere a couple of hours." He smiles at the little kiss to his hand. "Prob'ly y'could do with a massage whenever we /do/ get home an' get Spence t'bed." "The kinda to-ourselves where I get to jus' focus on /you/ for a spell 'stead'a feelin' like my attention's tugged t'seven hundred different people what might need me. A walk would be nice. Jus' get a spell t'/talk/ without a swarm'a company around an' meals t'cook an' work t'get done." Jax's crooked smile returns, lips still upturned around his straw as he takes another mouthful. "-- Though I'd be pretty glad too if that walk /ended/ in a nice quiet room alone somewhere." Micah listens quietly, nodding and smiling between drinks. “Hmm...lemme see if I can come up with a path that fits that bill.” His phone slides out of his pocket, a thumb slipping over the screen to unlock it, then his index finger tap-tapping and swiping to check for appropriate locations nearby. “Think I got somethin' that'll work. Not the most /scenic/ walk ever, but it's rainin' an' movin' toward dark anyhow. Just say the word when you're ready t'be off.” "That's aright," Jax answers Micah cheerfully. His next gulp of milkshake is a little bigger and he lifts his cupcake to actually take a proper /bite/ now that Plans are happening. His eye flits over Micah again. "M'gonna have all the pretty I need right there 'long with me." The sudden flush that overtakes Micah's cheeks is almost enough to interrupt his drinking through the straw of his milkshake. Almost. He swallows hard before sitting back. "Mmn, flatterer. Bringin' the pretty's usually /your/ job. But I guess I can try t'carry some of that load since you've been havin' a tough time an' all." Jax giggles, polishing off his cupcake in another two quick bites. "Always know I can rely on you. C'mon." He pushes himself out of his chair, tucking his crutch under an arm and scooping his milkshake up in his other hand. He offers that elbow out to Micah. "Milkshake /an'/ arm candy. I really /will/ have all the sugar."