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Dramatis Personae

Micah, Jax

9 May 2014

Replacing some jewellery and more.


<WES> Croton Gorge Park – Westchester

Situated on the east bank of the Hudson, this large park offers events year-round and a plethora of activities for nature lovers. With playgrounds, facilities for camping and swimming, boating and fishing, plentiful trails for hiking, biking, horseback riding, cliffs for rock climbing, grounds for winter sports, and ample ground to just sit and enjoy the weather, these park grounds are a great place to relax year-round. The grounds are well-tended, and with a host of avian and herpetological life, early mornings often find animal lovers scoping out the grounds in search of a glimpse of some rare bird or lizard hiding in the trees or rocks as well.

It's Friday and it's sunny and warm in the early afternoon (though the forecast is calling for a much /wetter/ evening). Having just received a clean bill of brain-health from Lucien the night before, Micah has both suggested and prepared a small picnic lunch of lettuce wraps and avocado salad for a celebratory outing. The foodstuffs are in a cooler bag on his hip and he is sort of walking with his neon orange forearm crutches, sort of carrying them because they're not entirely necessary unless the surfaces become challenging or the walking distances long. He is dressed as simply as usual: kelly green T-shirt with a cartoon red panda on it, faded bluejeans, olive newsboy cap, and sneakers. "This seems like a good spot t'spread the blanket," he says of an isolated sunny-grassy patch.

Jackson has mixed up a large thermosful of lemonade -- for once /not/ syrupy over-sweetened, alas -- to bring along on the picnic, swinging along at his side as he walks along beside Micah. Though he's still somewhat pale, a little slow in his step, there's a brighter alertness to his /expression/, an easier smile on his face than there has been in days past. A sprinkling of new metal glints in his face, dotted across his eyebrows and lips; his clothing is kind of metallic-bright as well, a silvery sheen to his sleeveless iridescent-blue top, paired with studded black jeans and chunky blue-silver-black sneakers. Spiked cuffs circle his wrists, with black polish slightly chipped on his nails and silver shadow over his black-eyelinered eye. He glances up towards the sky when Micah decides on a spot, then around them. "S'got you in it," he answers cheerfully. "Seems a proper good spot t'me." There's a bag at /his/ hip as well, bulky but lightweight that he unhooks to set down so that he can shake out the blanket, squinting his eye up uncertainly as he attempts to /optimize/ sunniness in his blanket-spreading.

"Aren't you just precious?" Micah giggles at Jax's criterion for good picnic spots. He deposits his crutches and bag on the ground before moving to help anchor an end of the blanket for Jax to spread it out more easily. Once it is neatened, he moves the bag over onto it, then rather slowly gets himself down to sit, as well. He leaves the food bag sitting between them unopened, sneak-thiefing the thermos to steal a sip of lemonade. "Those new ones aren't gonna make it hurt t'eat, will they?" his finger traces over his lip to indicate his meaning.

"No, /you're/ the one makin' for valuable picnic real-estate," Jax clarifies lightly, smoothing out the blanket and flopping down onto his back beside the bag. He shakes his head at Micah's question, stretching an arm upwards towards Micah's face, though he /misses/, fingers brushing straight past the other man and having to return to try again. On his second try he actually manages to trace fingertips against Micah's -- jaw. Not quite lips. Probably for the best, since Micah has lemonade to occupy him. "Naw, I'm an /expert/ at eatin' with fresh piercin's. Don't -- do excellent with /real/ hot things -- temperature-wise or spicy-wise -- for a day or two but outside'a extremes I manage fine. 'Cept when I get my tongue done I'm pretty much gonna be speakin' in sign an' eatin' ice cream for a week." His fingers linger against Micah's skin, trailing down to the side of the other man's neck with a slowly spreading smile, soft and lazily content. "How was the walk here?"

Micah blushes pale shell-pink at the ongoing flattery, recapping the lemonade and holding it out in offer to Jax. He tilts his head to better meet with his husband's somewhat poorly targeting touch. "Walk was excellent. I had a gorgeous view." Two can play at this game, apparently. He claims Jax's hand to bring to his lips, kissing the inside of his wrist. "Muscles still complain a lot. But that's pretty much t'be expected between workin' back to a more symmetrical gait pattern an' changin' m'whole system of motor control every day. Things should calm a little now that that part's done, I'm hopin'. Ain't like we got a ton of experience t'draw on for that particular issue." He nods at the reply about eating. "Well, I didn't make nothin' /too/ spicy. If y'can handle the lemons in the lemonade, y'should be fine with the food." Unzipping the bag, he pulls out a container that is...rather small and covered in dark blue velvety cloth to be full of picnic goodies. "Y'might wanna start with this one," he suggests casually as he places the box into his husband's hand, though he doesn't fully suppress a flicker of smile.

Jax's cheeks flush dark, his gaze lowering at the compliment and fingers curling inward to cup the side of Micah's face with the kiss. "I'll do better," he promises. "With helpin' work out that soreness. Kinda like havin' m'hands on you anyhow. Even if I hafta go easy on the /kisses/ a bit. Like I said. Can't really handle /too/ too hot." He sits up when the box is placed into his hand, eye widening as his fingers close around it. "Oh -- oh. Oh this ain't --" He closes his lips, looking up at Micah with a deepening flush as he draws his hand closer, opening up the small box.

"You do plenty, honey. S'like...growin' pains. Things t'be expected. Means it's gettin' better." Micah sticks his tongue out a little at the hotness pun, crinkling his nose playfully. His expression becomes a little more serious as he nods in answer to Jax's unfinished question. Inside the box is a small ring, its band of unadorned white gold forming a setting of short rays cradling a single stone. The small, faceted round schiller sunstone with spiralling planes of deep coppery-red inclusions set at its centre is as close a match to the original as could be found, right down to the rainbow-kaleidoscope effect when sunlight strikes it. "It is...or as close as it could be. The band has what was left from the original ring melted down into it. I tried t'get a close match on the stone." He moves a little nearer, up on his knees now, taking the ring from the box once Jax has had a chance to inspect it. "May I?" He reaches out for Jax again, waiting for his husband to place his hand in his own. "/This/ one comes with a promise that we're gonna have a /real/ weddin' 'fore too long, honest."

"Oh." Jax's breath catches as he turns the little box one direction and another, letting the light hit it as his fingertips lift to press to his lips. He nods quickly, reaching out his hand to rest it in Micah's. "S'still beautiful. You -- thank you, I --" His eye is glistening, shiny-bright blue as he shifts closer to Micah. "Oh gosh. A /real/ -- we could have it at the Commons an' have -- oh. That'd be. That'd be so. -- Ohgosh, I love you, I think I'm forgettin' how -- to -- words. Can I jus' kiss you instead?"

"Yes." Micah's smile blooms broader and brighter as he slides the ring onto Jax's finger, setting the little ring box aside. "I'm sure we could do it in the Commons courtyard once everythin's all done with buildin' in an' the gardens are growin' all pretty an'... It'd be just perfect t'have at /home/. I love you." He leans in for the kiss, voice low and corners of his eyes crinkling slightly as he teases, "just be careful, remember."

Jax lifts his hand once the ring is on it, curling his fingers against the side of Micah's face. His lips touch to his husband's, very lightly, at first, but then firmer and deeper. It draws a tiny whimper out of his throat but he leans in, his other arm curling around Micah's waist and pulling in close.

Micah, at least, is gentler with his kisses. He lets Jax determine just how much pressure the new piercings can handle so very soon after having them put in. His arms wrap tight around his husband with no such concerns, however. “Love you,” he repeats softly between kisses.

Jax does not hold the kiss very long, breaking off soon to rest his forehead against Micah's. His hand still cups the other man's face, thumb brushing gently against Micah's lips. "Love you," he murmurs back, his mouth curling up into a warm wide smile. "Oh. Gosh." He pulls back slightly to brush the back of his wrist against his cheek, wiping away a trickle of tears that has started to fall. He steals another quick light kiss, nuzzling gently in against Micah's neck after. "'kay. 'kay, you made food an'. An' we should eat an' I /love/ you."

One of Micah's hands reach up to pet at Jax's head, as if playing with hair that no longer grows there. When /he/ sneaks another kiss, it's to the cheek where the tears run, kissing the tears away with less worry about disturbing piercings. “Mmhmm. So much food. S'ginger in the wraps an' avocado in the salad.” Another kiss finds Jax's cheek. “Love you. Always.”