ArchivedLogs:Christmas Cookies

Christmas Cookies
Dramatis Personae Toru, Trib
In Absentia	2013-12-18 Someone's replaced Trib with someone who enjoys Christmas. Warning: Kisses.
Location <NYC> 311 {Trib} - Sunrise Apartments
For a room in the Sunrise building, this apartment is pretty well-furnished. There isn't much in the way of art - though on one wall, there are the beginnings of what appears to be a collage of articles; most boxing, although there are a few news stories and glossy physique images from muscle magazines. Against one wall is a plush brown couch is wedged between matching end tables, with a matching ottoman seated in front of it, and a blue throw blanket draped over the back. Set diagonally from that, next to a brass floor lamp, is a matching brown recliner - clearly, the three are part of a set. Decidedly /not/ matching that furniture is another couch on an opposing wall with stripes in varying widths in shades of blue, green, teal and brown; this one is a bit cheaper looking, with canvas upholstery and bare wood arms. Under it all, a mottled brown-and-ivory rug covers the hardwood floor. The only other wall with only space has a set of hooks screwed into it, which usually has a blue street bicycle hanging from it, and a skateboard leaning against the wall on the floor beneath it. The whole living room feels a bit cramped, though the relative lack of clutter keeps it from feeling too over-crowded. Through the small, dingy kitchen is the entrance to the bedroom, where a new-looking platform holds an oversized bed; the only piece of furniture in there. The door to the bathroom is closed, but it's likely stocked with bathroom-appropriate accoutrements. Oh, the weather outside is frightful, and a fire /would/ be delightful. Unfortunately, Trib and Toru's apartment lacks an actual fireplace and the Sunrise is kind of a matchbox, so tonight Christmas lights will have to do. And there /are/ Christmas lights. On the Charlie Brown-iest tree you ever saw, a scraggly-looking pine tree that's probably not more than five feet tall. It's well-lit with multi-colored lights, and a few Western-themed ornaments that are not well-placed on its boughs. A chain of artificial popcorn is wound around it like a candy cane, and at its top sits a battered-looking angel, her fine blonde hair more of a messy afro than flowing locks. And, beneath the tree? Presents! There are gifts beneath the tree, all of them most likely wrapped in the store, judging by how neatly they're tied up. Christmas has definitely taken over the small space. Right down to Bing Crosby crooning 'White Christmas' on the laptop. Trib himself is in the kitchen. Dressed in jeans and a green plaid shirt that's untucked over his tan thermal undershit, the boxer is barefoot as he struggles with what appears to be cookies. He has dough rolled out (well, patted out), and he regards the surface carefully, the tip of his tongue poking from the corner of his mouth as he lowers a tree-shaped cookie cutter and presses it into the dough. In his typical fashion on days he doesn't work, Toru has been asleep for much of the day, or just otherwise lazing around the bedroom - either way, he hasn't yet witnessed the /transformation/ that has happened in the rest of the apartment. It is while Trib is working on those cookies that the teen finally saunters out, the recent cold weather having pushed him into wearing both flannel pants /and/ a long-sleeved shirt to bed, and he's got socks on as well. When he initially staggers out it's somewhat blindly, with Toru making a beeline to the bathroom to take care of that business. A flush of the toilet and run of the sink later, he exits again, walking with heavy feet towards the kitchen to lean on the counter. "What was all that noise earlier?" he mumbles, slurring some of his words, and apparently completely failing to notice the results of said noise as he rubs an eye with the heel of his palm. The sound of Toru finally venturing out of the bedroom isn't lost on Trib, focused though he is on cookie-making. He pulls a couple of trees free of the dough, and lays them on a new-looking baking sheet. "'Bout time you got up," he rumbles, finally looking up to crinkle his eyes at the sleepy teen. "I figured I was gonna have to dynamite your ass out of bed." He moves to claim a quick kiss from Toru, momentarily fisting up the younger man's shirt to hold him in place. The question gets a snort, and Trib presses the cookie cutter back to the dough. "Fuckin' tree fell over," he explains, waving the cutter in the direction of the living room. "I had to fix the goddamned stand." Toru is a bit too asleep, yet, to give that kiss the attention it deserves, though he is at least awake enough to lean into it with a happy little sound, lowering his head to butt it against Trib's chest when the man pulls away. The explanation is accepted for a moment and he nods, mumbling, "Guess that would do it," and just sort of stands there silently for a moment. /Then/, finally, he looks to the living room again, surprise enough to wake him up at least enough to make sense of what he's seeing. "--Why is there a tree in our house." Frowning, he strides over with /purpose/ to look the tree over, then looks around the living room with somewhat of a glower. "Is this our place? Did you-- move me to some other apartment while I was asleep-- since when do you decorate for holidays?" He doesn't actually /sound/ as upset as he looks, and might just be putting on the expression for appearances, but he does seem genuinely perplexed at least. Trib looks just the tiniest bit smug at Toru's reaction, pausing in cookie-making to watch it. "There's a tree in the house, 'cause that's what you're supposed to do at Christmas," he says, returning to his work to cut out a few more trees and put them on the sheet. The question is a fair one, and he lifts a shoulder, setting down the cookie cutter and beginning to pull the dough scraps into a ball. "I was talkin' with this guy I met in the park the other day, an' he made me think. People are dumb as shit at Christmas, but there's plenty of good shit about it, too." The corner of his mouth curls as he regards the dough, patting it back out flat again. "'Specially this year. I ain't never had so many people I /wanted/ to spend Christmas with. 'S nice." Stretching his arms out over his head while Trib explains, Toru just nods a few times, quietly, but does reach out a hand to nudge the larger man's side. Gently! "So what, like, two?" He finds a bare spot on the counter, moving a few stray items out of the way, and pushes himself up to sit on the edge, resting his head against a cupboard door and grinning over at Trib. "You're gettin' all sentimental on me in yer old age. It's kinda cute. I guess now I'm gonna have ta /getcha/ somethin', though; I was kinda under the impression we were gonna kinda ignore the whole thing." "More'n two," Trib grunts in protest, curling around that gentle poke and offering an equally gentle shove in return. "There's you, an' Cage, an' Janice...." he wrinkles his nose. "Okay, maybe that's it, but it's more'n /two/." He plucks up a bottle of green-colored sugar, and begins sprinkling it liberally over the cookies on the sheet. His good humor fades slightly, when Toru remarks on his sentimentality, and he shakes his head. "Maybe," he admits. "Losin' Pa...I realized I ain't got that many fuckin' people left that I care about, or who care about /me/. I figure I ought to start try not bein' an ass all the time." His half-grin returns, and he picks up the tray to salute Toru with it. "Merry fuckin' Christmas." Toru balls one of his feet into a little toe-fist, stretching it over to nudge Trib. "Hey. It ain't how many people you got, it's the quality, yeah?" His grin at that is just a /touch/ cheeky, and toes twist around to grip the fabric of Trib's shirt, tugging just a little while he grips the counter with his own hands to keep from pulling himself off. "Come on, I didn't mean to make you feel bad or nothin'. Guess I didn't think about Janice, I was just figurin' Cage. Anyway, I only got /you/ but I'm doin' alright, yeah?" One of his hands comes up to brush at his hair - recently trimmed down to a slightly less unruly, but nonetheless still a bit shaggy length - and then drops back to his side. "I'll get us a Christmas cake next week, maybe." "I got somethin' for Cage's mom, too," Trib says, letting himself be hauled in. "Though goin' through stores this time of year almost put me back off the whole thing." He chuffs a laugh, and leans in to brush the ruined ridge of his nose againt Toru's. "I think we're both doin' all right," he murmurs, and lifts his chin to plant a firm kiss against Toru's forehead before he eases back. "An' I feel fine," he asserts, picking up the baking sheet and carrying it to the oven to slide it inside. "Christmas cake would be fuckin' awesome," he says, his eyebrows lifting. "Get a big one -- I figure Cage'll be invitin' us to eat with him, so we better fuckin' make a good showin'." Toru /almost/ tilts his head up for a kiss, when Trib brushes noses together, but ultimately stops just before lips touch. He does respond to the kiss on his forehead with a small little smile, then nods and answers, "Hey, I ain't complainin'." Any good cheer accomplished there, though, is lost at the mention of dinner at Cage's. The teen winces a bit, shaking his head at the thought. "I don't know if I can handle another dinner over there if his girl and her bodyguard is gonna be around. I mean.. I dunno, at least this time I'd know what to expect." That hand goes over his head again, and when it reaches the back of his neck he lets out a little sigh. "His ma's good people, though, I do kinda like her. I just.. don't know about the crowd." Trib laughs, and moves back to Toru, wrapping meaty arms around his slender torso and tightening them briefly. "Hey, don't be fuckin' jealous of Sharpe," he rumbles, eyes crinkling. "He was tryin' to get /my/ goat, not yours. 'Sides, I heard he's seein' some little twink kid, so he ain't anything to worry about." He drops his face into the curve of Toru's neck, and nips lightly. "An' Miss Blair has her own family to visit," he murmurs against smooth skin, brushing his lips ever-so-lightly there. "So you ain't got nothin' to worry about. Hell, he ain't even asked us, yet." He grins against Toru's shoulder. "We might be fuckin' eatin turkey pot pies for Christmas dinner." Comforted in Trib's embrace, Toru lowers his head into that pocket of safety, bumping the top of his head against Trib's chest and just sort of nudging him there for a minute. "I wasn't /jealous/," he finally answers. "I just didn't like the way he was talkin' about me. /Us/. Like... I don't remember exactly, I just didn't /like/ it." There's another long sigh there, the teen bringing hands up to grip Trib's shirt and holding him close for a long, quiet moment. Eventually, once it seems like he isn't going to say anything else, he finally does, slowly, lift his head and add, with a smile that's only /slightly/ forced, "Pot pie's fine. I don't care, as long as it's warm." Trib's smile is probably felt more than anything else, spreading against Toru's skin as he shakes his head. "Okay," he says in a droll tone. "You wasn't fuckin' jealous." He digs his fingers into Toru's side playfully before he slips his hands down to wrap around the teenager's thighs, lifting them to wrap them around his waist. Then he lifts his head to claim Toru's mouth in a kiss that's a totally different kind of warm than pot pies. "Pup," he rumbles when the kiss breaks. "You ought to know by now, I'm the fuckin' /master/ of warm. Like, the goddamned Heat Miser." Toru lifts a hand to rub the heel of his palm against an eye, nodding a few times. "Not jealous." Eyebrows raise in a bit of surprise when Trib rearranges him for that kiss, the teen grinning just slightly, tightening the grip his legs have on the larger man's waist. He's eager enough to meet that kiss, groaning quietly against warm lips, pulling a bit more needily on that shirt.. but when the kiss breaks, his hands go slack, and the look he gives Trib is amused, but with some hesitance to it. "I know, you're a goddamn furnace, just. Not /that/ kind of warm right now, okay?" That expression shifts to one that's more sheepishly apologetic, and he nods toward the oven. "I'm just.. more in the mood for the other kind. And-- don't want you to burn your cookies." There's a flicker of disappointment on Trib's face when Toru begs off, and his brow furrows as he looks down at the teenager. "You feelin' okay, pup?" he asks, hands tightening slightly on narrow hips. "You ain't never worried about my cookies before." It's an almost-tease, the deeper question laying just below the surface. "Is there somethin' wrong with me wantin' to enjoy your fucking company without it just bein' foreplay?" Toru's answer is half-snapped, but he instantly seems to regret the tone, shaking his head a few times and lifting a hand to grip Trib's shirt again; a gesture that attempts, at least, to be reassuring. "--I didn't mean it like that. It-- it's just my turn to be snappy about holidays, I guess. I.. I'm kinda more in the mood to just lie on the couch and sulk than anything else. It ain't nothin' you did." Trib's expression darkens, slightly, at the snapping from Toru, and his jaw sets noticeably. He looks like he might be gearing up to respond just as snarkily as he begins to move back, but he's easily captured again. He's quiet for a long moment after Toru finishes speaking, and he drums his fingers against the youth's leg. "You want some cocoa while you're sulkin'?" he asks, finally, emitting the words in a heavy exhale. The curl of his lip is a half-hearted attempt to lighten the mood, although his next comment lacks the tease. "Or is that too cheerful for ya?" "You know I'll talk to ya when I got the words to say anything," Toru mumbles, through a half-smile, head butting gently against Trib's chest. And then he does finally, slowly, slide to the floor, giving the boxer one more headbutt before he slowly starts to linger in the other direction. "Cocoa'd probably be good," he nods slowly. "And /cookies/ ain't too cheerful neither," is added, /hintingly/. "...And a Fish blanket when you're done. You know I don't like soundin' all deep and emotional or whatever, but if we could just lay around and kinda... lay around." He frowns, rubbing one elbow with the opposite hand as he turns toward the living room. "It'd be nice."