ArchivedLogs:A Little Bit
|A Little Bit|
25 September 2014
Takes place a few hours after getting arrested /again/.
<NYC> Candyland - Harbor Commons - Lower East Side
The stairs lead up into a landing hall, bright as well with a set of bay windows and a wide cushion-strewn ledge beneath them at its far end. To the right of the landing the first doorway opens into the bathroom, warmly coloured in yellows and reds and sandy tiles; its large bathtub-shower also holds a mosaic on one wall, strange fire-creatures and manticores echoed in the small fiery faeries sprinkled at sporadic intervals around the rest of the room. Past the bathroom on the right-hand side is a smaller door into a linen closet before the actual door into Spencer's bedroom. Spencer's sturdy furniture set has been designed with rambunctious children in mind, most of its structure climbable with a loft-bed connected by a short tunnel to an also-lofted reading nook with a sliding door to turn it into its own private cave; the desk and dresser sit beneath the bed and there is a shelving unit beneath the platform that serves also as steps up into it. A slide down off the bed falls down into large squishy beanbag and the whole of the structure has been designed and painted reminiscent of a spaceship, a theme echoed in the way the closet doors have been painted to look like the TARDIS.
On the left-hand side the first door leads into the master bedroom, bright-lit not just from its huge windows and skylight but from a rather exorbitant overabundance of lamps. It's colourful in here, the hand-crafted wood furniture (king bed against the left-hand wall, pair of small nightstands to either side of it, a pair of dressers flanking the closet on the right, a large desk with a multitude of drawers and shelves along the back) cheerfully painted, the walls home to plentiful artwork, brightly coloured glass figurines scattered around the shelves and stained-glass suncatchers hanging in the windows. One set of windows leads out onto a balcony, stretching out to share with the guest bedroom adjacent; it's set up for /lounging/, a large hammock at one side, a pair of hanging net chairs flanking the table on the other.
Next to the master bedroom is the smaller guest bedroom, sunny-yellow and furnished with queen bed, dresser, a small desk of its own; doors here lead out into the balcony as well. At the end of the hallway shortly before the window nook, a hatch in the ceiling drops down a rope-ladder that leads up into the tiny attic-space; not so much a proper /floor/ as it is a sloped-ceiling nook of space beneath the roof, it nevertheless has its own circular window and skylights and rather than left unfinished it's been furnished with beanbag and folded futon-mattress and a tiny low table with drawers tucked beneath it.
"... offerin' to hug a police officer, seriously? /Hive/?" Light spills from Beachhaus over into the hallway; Jax is entering not from downstairs but from next door where he's helped settle a patched-up B back into hir pool. In his voice there's evidence of conflicting emotions, words caught somewhere between incredulous and giggly. "They ain't actually gonna charge none'a you though, are they? I mean what would they charge you /with/, an' excess'a snuggles?" He switches on the light in /this/ hall, too, stooping to ruffle at Obie's head as the beagle scampers down the hall towards them. "This is gettin' silly, how many times they gonna arrest you for absolutely-nothin'?" He is still dressed from work (hastily departed mid-shift to claim his family from jail), red-and-black Clinic uniform coordinating well with his red-tipped fuzz of dark hair, dark glasses, black nails with glittery red layered in a paint-splatter design over top.
"Seriously. 'parently yellow special ability dye gives y'the happy." Micah is still a bit /dusty/ with white powder, carrying his bloodied hoodie draped over one arm and wandering a little aimlessly. "Nah. Even got a fair bit on video 'fore Hive dropped m'phone. At most they can fuss at us for crossin' the police barricade. Which we did under the influence of Ability. An' /I/ did t'help B after ze got shot, also." His lips pull into a tired smirk. "Oh, but if I get two more punches in my card they'll give me a free sandwich. An' I'm sure Luci could have a field day spinnin' all this some more." His head shakes slowly. "Just wish the kids'd stop gettin' hurt. Did B get somethin' t'eat? We were on our way t'food when all this happened an' the pups don't do well without food. 'Specially once they're injured..."
"S'worse things for him t'have, lately, than an extra dose'a happy." Jax sounds a little wistful here. He leaves the door to the kids' house open, curling an arm around Micah and rubbing a hand slowly against his husband's arm. "Gettin' some frequent flyer perks'd be a blessin' if it meant they /actually/ fed anybody in there." His head shakes slowly, nose wrinkling up as he glances back towards the open door to the next apartment. "Yeah, s'full'a seitan chili an' venison jerky now. Kinda wolfed down half a /deer/ an' then collapsed into her pond. I'll see how she's doin' in the mornin' but might maybe be a good idea t'take t'morrow off an' rest, if we can talk her into missin' a day of classes."
“Yeah. Think maybe it got cancelled out by an evenin' of /cops/, though.” Micah's nose crinkles at this. “Oh, careful, I'm still...actually, no, I think the white-powdery wore off. An' it was just kinda calm anyhow. Worse things could happen than havin' some /calm/ rub off on you.” He leans in to kiss Jax on the cheek, having decided that this is safe. “Would be nice for people not t'have t'starve on top of dealin' with cops'n jail'n all, yeah. We can /try/ t'keep hir home t'morrow.” His fingers grab at his shirt, pulling it out a few centimetres. “Speaking of which, I should probably shower an' eat an'... Somethin'. I've mostly been wanderin' small circles in the livin' room since I got back.”
"You're kinda a mess," Jax agrees, nevertheless nuzzling gently against Micah's neck after the kiss. "... though I could think'a worse things to dose our /bed/ with than a little bit'a calm, might help at night with --" He shakes his head, cutting off this train of thought. Instead he wraps arms snug around his husband, pressing another kiss to the other man's collarbone. "I could go whip up somethin' nice for you t'eat while you wash up," he offers, though this is followed with a small (hopeful!) smile. "... less you're up for some company /while/ you wash up? Comfort-food after?"
“More'n usual, even,” Micah adds with a playful self-deprecating grin. He leans into the nuzzling gratefully. “Wouldn't complain 'bout more time with you. We were /gonna/ sit with you for dinner, so done missed out on that already.” His arms tug Jax a little closer, petting up along his back.
"/More/'n usual. Least you don't smell like burnt plastic with this crazy mood-paint." Jax nestles gladly into the closer tugging, lips pressing to his husband's neck again. "... I still ain't et," he suddenly remembers, "though I had food bars /on/ me so I ain't /starvin'/." He -- usually has some form of calories tucked away. "You know, this rate you're landin' yourself in jail you're gonna catch me up 'fore Thanksgivin'."
"Hm...yeah, that's usually work clothes that get /that/ way." Micah giggles, since /probably/ most people don't regularly have an issue with smelling like heated plastics. "Ohgosh. Y'did eat some of those, right? Y'gotta eat one /before/ shower if not. Required." The accusation earns a chuckle. "We goin' for just number of arrests or duration? Think I ain't gonna catch you up soon on time served. Or /hope/ not, at least."
"Ate two an' three strips'a seitan jerky," Jax assures Micah with a faint dusting of blush across his cheeks and a small crinkle of nose. "...I was waitin' in the police station for a bit." His fingers slip beneath Micah's shirt, skimming fingertips lightly against his husband's sides. "... could keep a tally'a arrests." Though this joking comes with a shiver. "/Just/ arrests. I ain't even gonna play at encouragin' you to beat me on /time/. It ain't -- a fun thing to --" He nuzzles in against Micah's neck once more. "... 'sides I'd miss you way too hard, you ditch me for that /long/. Arrests only. You already done got two this /month/."
“Good.” Micah taps a fingertip to the end of Jax's nose with that. His smile widens slowly with his husband's touch. “Okay. Just keepin' score on arrests. Though I kinda /cheated/ an' stole that last one from you.” He hugs Jax even tighter, squeezing close. “Weren't no walk in the park when you was gone, neither. An' that one was /my/ fault. Which /really/ didn't help.”
"/Was/ pretty unfair. I'm only givin' you half marks for the last one, then. Gotta keep my edge somehow." Jax's giggle is stifled slightly against Micah's skin. "Though honest I'm tempted t'give you double points, s'kinda a turn-on, havin' a partner s'willin' to throw himself under the /cop/-bus on my behalf."
"Mmn. I'd rather give y'that'n then have y'go gettin' arrested again, so I'm fine with that." Tipping his head down, Micah sneaks tinykisses to Jax's neck. "Hmm... Admittedly there was a lot less risk for me involved. An' it seemed like a good /opportunity/ t'expose how ridiculous that law /an'/ the cops are." A little touch of teeth slips between kisses. "Not gonna argue turn-ons too hard, though."
The tinykisses are met with a tinypurr, a soft rumble of sound thrumming in Jax's throat. His fingers trace up higher, nails scraping lightly up against Micah's ribs. "Was pretty ridiculous. An' I can only imagine t'day gettin' arrested for offerin' hugs or whatever silliness ain't gonna -- oh." His words cut off in a soft inhale at the touch of teeth, his body pressing back in against Micah's. "Gotta admit," he confesses, fingers sliding around to knead at the small of Micah's back as his head tips to bare his neck further, "don't take a whole /lot/ from you t'switch me on. Ain't sure you noticed but I'm a little bit into you."
A soft-pleased sound, nearly a hum, answers the light scratching. "Mmhm. Plus side is it ain't like t'stick." Micah presses back tighter against Jax. "Ohgosh, I hadn't figured it. Look, y'got me blushin', now." And since it is such an easy task, there is no lie to the latter part of his teasing, light pink dusting his cheeks along with the fading remnants of white powder dye. "Little bit into you, too." Some puns are just too timely to be passed over. His teeth press harder against his husband's skin, biting down.
"Good thing the blushin' turns me on too, then. You're pretty in --" But once more Jax's words get cut off, his gasp sharper this time. His body melts in against Micah's, a faint glow lighting just below his skin. There's a small stretch of quiet -- just a little bit harder breathing, a faint edge of moan to them -- before he finally lifts his head. Pulls back, just enough that in lieu of bites he can press his mouth hungrily to his husband's. His hands drop lower, fingers curling this time into the waistband of the other man's jeans. "... want you t'be a lot in me. Please. Now?"
"S'real good thing, 'cause it happens pretty much constantly," Micah agrees, the colour in his face notching up to a redder hue. He sighs contentedly at Jax's melt into him, eagerly returning kisses when they are sought. "Did have every intention of gettin' outta these clothes. Upstairs." He backs off just enough to shift toward of the stairs, giving Jax a small swat on the bottom to encourage him that direction, as well.
"I pretty much constantly think you're incredibly sexy," Jax answers this with a giggle. He steals one more fierce kiss, but doesn't need any more encouragement to head up, flashing a quick grin at his husband before turning to scamper up the stairs ahead of Micah.