ArchivedLogs:Accessories

Accessories
Dramatis Personae Micah, Jackson
In Absentia	7 August 2013 Micah finally finds an opportunity to deliver light-items. (Takes place just after Tag delivery.)
Location <NYC> 303 {Lighthaus} - Village Lofts - East Village
This apartment is cheerful, in its way -- bright and airy, its floor plan open and a plethora of windows providing it with an abundance of light. The tiny entrance hall opens into a living room, small, though its sparse furniture and lack of clutter give it a more open feel. The decor is subdued and minimalist; black and white is the dominant theme, with occasional splashes of deep crimson to offset the monochrome, though of late myriad bright-coloured dragonflies swarm across the living room wall. The couch and armchair are upholstered in black corduroy, the low wide coffee table central is black wood and glass-topped, and a few large pillowy beanbags provide additional seating by the large windows that dominate the back wall. Towards the back, a couple of doors lead off into bedrooms and bathroom, and to the right, the kitchen's tile is separated from the living room's dark hardwood floors by black countertops. Above the bedroom to one side, there is higher space; a ladder climbs up to a lofted area looking down on the living room. Standing in front of the partition between living and cooking area is a large fish tank: one lone Betta, blood-red, swims regally among several species of black and silver fish. A hallway beyond the kitchen leads further into the apartment. Another bathroom stands just into the hall and the farthest door leads to the apartment's final bedroom, the door usually kept shut to hold in the acrid fumes of turpentine and paints from within. The door closes behind Micah softly, out of consideration for those already sleeping. He wanders over to a corner where his backpack is stashed and rifles through it. “I...um...had a thing that I needed t'give you. But. It just hadn't seemed like a good time t'do it with all the recoverin' an' all. Uh. 'Bastian told me that Jane had given you an LED thing? So that you could have light all the time.” He pulls out a taped-closed paper bag and works at the clear tape to open it. Jackson blushes at this, head ducking and his hand rubbing sheepishly at the back of his neck. "Yeah, she -- gave me a thing," he admits, nose crinkling slightly. "I just -- I was gonna wear it but it --" He shrugs a shoulder awkwardly, his cheeks flushing deeper. "Prob'ly woulda come in handy, huh?" He sounds a little guilty about this. Jax's blush draws an answering blush to Micah's cheeks in a faint dusting of pink. “Um. Yeah. It. Might've. That was kinda what reminded me t'go lookin' for this. 'Cause of even more trouble maybe. With the telepaths. An' the people as attacked us /before/. An' people goin' t'break out the folks they took.” He finally manages to get a nail under the tape and pull it loose, reaching into the bag to withdraw two slim cuffs and a collar in synthetic leather. “Maybe if there's ones you'll actually /wear/, they'd help more.” The corner of his mouth twitches upward in the beginnings of a smirk. "We do seem to kinda find ourselves a whole heap'a trouble all the time, don't we?" There's a quiet edge of laughter in Jax's voice, faint but present. His smile fades as he rubs his knuckles against his eye. He opens it to look at the collar and cuffs, starting to reach for them, but then pulling his hand back. "Oh -- oh." His blush deepens. "Those -- ain't the ones Jane brought." “Yeah, I think we mighta picked up more'n our fair share,” Micah replies with a bit of a chuckle. “Um...no. These are new. To be prettier. Not clunky like the one Jane had made.” It is hard to tell whether his blush worsens because Jax's does, or if it would have done so on its own. He steps closer, holding them out for inspection. “Since you weren't wearin' that one. These might be easier to accessorise.” "These --" Jackson looks over the new accessories, a soft smile curling across his face. "They're pretty. I mean, they're /real/ pretty --" He hesitates, biting down on his lower lip. His hand lifts, but he doesn't take the collar; he reaches instead to rest his fingertips lightly against Micah's knuckles. "But where did you --" His blush spreads, tinting the air around him faintly pink. "I mean. It's a collar." "Oh." The tip of Micah's tongue brushes over his lips as he pauses. "'Bastian made them. It's just. It seemed like a good idea an'..." He shifts through several more shades of red, as well, his eyes locked on Jax's hand where it sits on his own. "Um. I'd like it if you would wear them." Jackson draws in a breath, his tongue poking out too to wiggle at his a lip ring. "Does seem like a good idea," he agrees, quieter. His fingers slide a little further back, to rest against Micah's wrist. He takes a step closer, his other arm sliding around Micah's waist, and in answer he just nods. "Would you --" The pink around him deepens. Micah nods, a slow smile spreading across his features. He reaches over to set the wrist cuffs on a nearby shelf, freeing his fingers for unbuckling the metal clasp on the collar. He lifts it, sliding the synthleather and LEDs over the skin of Jax's neck and slipping the end through the buckle. “You'll have t'let me know how tight is best,” he directs, slowly drawing the loop more snug. Jackson's deep blush remains, but his smile is quiet answer to Micah's. His hand drops from Micah's wrist to rest at the other man's hip. He stands up just a little straighter, head inclining just slightly to bare his neck to Micah. "Yessir," is his soft answer. And then quiet, as Micah draws the collar more snugly; a brief shiver passes up his spine, his breath stilling momentarily. "S'good," he finally says, once the collar is comfortably in place. "-- Thank you." “Mmn...'welcome,” Micah answers in a low tone, stepping in even closer against Jax to reach past him and retrieve one of the wrist cuffs from its resting place on the shelf. Once the clasp open, he collects Jax's free arm and brings it to his lips to plant a kiss on the inside of the wrist. He repeats the process of cinching synthleather, this time around the wrist, again to specified snugness. The kiss stirs another shiver. Jackson quiets, now, just nodding this time when the cuff is tight enough, first one and presumably then the other. His arms curl around Micah afterwards, his head tipping to brush lips lightly against the corner of Micah's mouth. "Thank you, sir." It's soft, and the colour in the air around him is fading; his blush is fading, too. "I love you." Micah completes the process silently, teeth meeting with his lip briefly at Jax's shivers. After Jax brushes that little kiss, he returns it with a firmer one to the other man's mouth. There is another pause in which he simply watches Jax, nothing said until an answering, “Love you, too, hon,” accompanied by a tight embrace. The hug is returned, just as tight. A warm glow spreads, blossoming beneath Jax's skin to light him from within. He follows the kiss with another, but after this says nothing further -- just tugs Micah gently, pulling the other man down into bed along with him.