ArchivedLogs:Baby Talk

Baby Talk
Dramatis Personae Micah, Jax
In Absentia	16 November 2014 '
Location <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. Dreary, grey, rainy cold is what the day has had to offer out of doors this Sunday. Micah has been doing his best to combat this inside, however, sun lamps switched on and the house still smelling pleasantly of potato leek soup from lunch mingling with the lavender-mint scent of freshly dried laundry. Music is playing cheerfully from his laptop's external speakers: Doctor Horrible, a frequent favourite of his for laundry day. The redhead has joined in singing the "Bad Horse Chorus" as he tucks rolled pairs of socks away into the dresser. Dreary-grey-rainy-cold means that Jax and Spence and Obie are all pretty chilled when they traipse back inside from a dog walk. The sound of hurrying stompy little-child-feet, just arrived home, are followed down the hall towards Spence's room by the skitter of eager beagle claws. Then back down the hall the other way and down the stairs -- it seems like Chase Each Other Around Loudly is the game today. Jax is not joining in this chasing, slipping back into the comforting warmth of his bedroom and peeling out of a sweatshirt that's gone damp around the neck and hood where it wasn't covered by Jacket. He does, however, come bearing added warmth, not just in the form of his own radiant heat but in a pair of drinks from Evolve. He closes the door on the thumpy chase-noises outside, scooting over to place a kiss on his husband's cheek and tuck a steaming to-go cup into Micah's hands, rich spicy-cocoa scent coming from inside. He sets his own cup down on the nightstand, lips curling up in amusement at the song as he shakes out a t-shirt to start helping with the folding. Micah chuckles at the series of increasingly loud sounds in the halls and stairway as the rest of the house's occupants return home. His singing stops in order to let him speak instead. “Hey, sugar. Y'all have fun?” He smiles at the cocoa placed into his hand, taking a sip from it despite the still-steaming heat of the liquid. “Mmn. Replacin' the cocoa y'thiefed from me the other night,” serves as a gentle tease. “Thanks, hon.” His cup finds a place to sit nearby on the dresser as he continues putting away the clean clothes. "Might maybe have had that stolen cup in mind," Jax admits with a lopsided smile, a small blush. He /looks/ much better than the other night, a follow-up session once the healers had had rest, themselves, returning his face to a less garish state and erasing his burns, though a few minor bruises still linger pale and near-gone under his clothes. "Was good. Front hall's a mess, I'll clean it up soon. Think Spence /an'/ Obie both splashed in /every/ puddle we passed. Toweled off his paws when we got in but it's all over mud by the doorway." “So thoughtful.” Micah pauses to trace fingertips along Jax's jaw on his way to retrieve more clothing from the laundry basket. “S'okay. Sometimes it's easier t'clean mud after it's dried out. Can get t'where y'just feel like you're swishin' the wet stuff from one place to another when y'try t'mop it. S'long as they don't go traipsin' back through it, should be fine.” He is just starting to sort away pants and jeans as a more thoughtful expression tempers his amused grin. “Would it be a good time t'talk for a minute?” "They're doin' a fair bit'a traipsin'." Jax cocks his head, listening, amused, to the thumping of footsteps up and down the hallway and stairs. "Though hopefully not by the door." He adds another neatly folded shirt to the pile, plucking up a third but setting it aside for hanging in the closet. "Hmm?" His eye flicks briefly sideways towards his husband. "Good as any, s'on your mind?" "Mmn...if they do it might be a good time t'teach Spence how t'clean a floor after it gets mud-traipsed," Micah muses softly, the hint of smile remaining on his lips betraying a lack of real concern over the situation. "Nothin' t'fret over," he leads into the conversation with this reassurance, considering the kinds of things they get themselves into. "Was just...wonderin'. What y'might think of us havin' a baby." Totally un-fret-worthy, right? Jax has been reaching for his own cup -- chocolatey too but more coffeeish in smell, a no doubt syrupy-sweet mocha -- but it's probably a good thing he hasn't actually picked it /up/ yet or the laundry might have shortly needed re-laundering. His hand drops back to his side, his weight thumping down to sit heavily on the edge of the bed. His brows have knitted abruptly, tone somewhat bewildered: "Huh?" Well...that's /almost/ like an answer. Micah abandons his clothing pile to move to the bed, settling in at Jax's side. “It's okay if y'don't think it's a good idea, I just...” He takes a deep breath, winding the explanation back a bit. “Did anyone tell you that Dusk an' Isra're expectin' a kid? S'an /egg/, if you'll b'lieve that. Didn't hear m'self 'til yesterday.” His hand moves to rest on his husband's knee. "It's not that I don't -- I just. /Us/, did you mean like now or..." Jax trails off, quieting for the rest of this explanation. "Oh, I, um. Right, yeah, no, they -- mentioned on Friday but I." He rests his hand over Micah's, fiercely warm to the touch. "S'this all made you want -- I mean, I know you love little'ns this just seems a little. Sudden?" "Well, soon. Or not. I mean, in the general future case, but that weren't what I was leadin' up to just now." Micah tries to stop branching off, two very different conversations possible at this point but one a great deal more time sensitive. "Did y'get a feel of what they're thinkin'? How they're feelin' 'bout it? I ain't discussed it with Isra, but Dusk's...terrified. At the thought of raisin' a kid. I don't think that they even know...if they want to. But it seems like they haven't had the chance t'so much as really be able to /think/ on their options, much less discuss it. 'Cause at least Dusk's thinkin' they don't /have/ any options but doin' this themselves, regardless of what they want." Jax shakes his head, hand curling in to idly play fingertips against the back of Micah's hand. "No, didn't talk on it much. Raisin' a kid's pretty terrifyin' though so that ain't hardly surprisin'." His other shoulder lifts in a small shrug. "Probably not many good options. Ain't exactly gonna be easy t'find a good home for a kid that -- s'hard enough t'adopt human babies what ain't white, /mutant/ kids don't nobody want t'touch." He looks up from their hands to Micah's face. "S'more kids somethin' you're wantin'? I mean, I know the pups is all but growed but Spence is still a handful." "Think he's a little more than the typical level of terrified. Sounded like this weren't somethin' he'd ever have...not on purpose. It worries me, them gettin' backed into a corner just 'cause they don't feel like they got the usual choices that 'normal' folks get t'have." Micah watches Jax's fingers move over his skin, quiet for a moment. "I mean, I could be entirely off base. I don't know Isra's thoughts on this at all. But the fact that Dusk couldn't answer the question of what she wanted when I asked? Just. That worry, y'know?" He meets his husband's gaze when he looks up at him. "Havin' kids is somethin' I always wanted. I mean...ain't never been tied t'the whole /makin'/ m'own...thing. But havin' 'em an' raisin' 'em...pretty much always. An' it's been a wonderful thing, the twins an' Spence." His free arm moves to curl around Jax's shoulders. "If it's somethin' you'd want, too, then yes. I'm bringin' it up /now/ 'cause if you /do/, I'd like t'let Dusk an' Isra know that they got the option. Y'know? So they can honestly /think/ about it. 'Stead of bein' stuck." Jax's mouth opens, then closes again. His gaze slowly lowers back to their hands, his weight shifting in to lean against Micah's side. For a rather long time, he is quiet. His hand tightens slowly around Micah's. "It's..." Slow and deliberate, when he finally does speak. "Somethin' I done thought about, before. Just not -- I never thought /now/. Like in the future maybe. When things is more stable an'... I mean, another kid, that's. Enormous. Even if we wasn't talkin' about another /mutant/ kid." Micah's hand squeezes back at Jax's, matching his pressure. “I get what I'm askin' here, sugar. S'more'n a lot. An' b'lieve me, I understand...you're younger'n me by more'n a little. An' y'been raisin' kids since way b'fore y'ever meant t'be. If you're not ready, I understand.” He lifts Jax's hand up to his lips, placing a light kiss across his knuckles. “An' like I said, I don't even know if Dusk an' Isra would want this, either. I just...had t'ask.” "I never -- /wanted/ to --" Jax doesn't finish this sentence, tensing faintly and looking towards the door as though sharp-eared children may be just /lurking/ to overhear this confidence. His shoulders sag, his body turning inwards to press up closer to his husband's side. "D'you -- think that's somethin' we're in a place to. To be offerin', I mean as much as this family gets -- shot at an' blowed up an' arrested an' -- I mean, thanks t'Ion ain't like we're no ways /near/ hurtin' for money but. But time an' -- an' energy. I mean, for any kid at all, but /their/ kid ain't... likely to be..." He trails off, deep crimson in his cheeks. "Shh, sugar, it's okay. I'm not tryin' t'put you in that place the way he did. This is /your/ choice. An' y'don't gotta make it right now, if y'need more time. An' you absolutely /shouldn't/ just say what y'think I wanna hear. This is your life, too, so please...just. Take your time an' let me know what you're really feelin'." Micah's other arm joins the first, circling around Jax and hugging him closer. "Think that I'm in a place t'handle it. But we'd /both/ need t'be. S'far as...the time an' energy an' safety...d'you think anyone else is in a place t'offer more who /would/ offer it?" His hug tightens a little. "That sounded like pressurin'. That ain't how I meant it, I just...m'tryin' t'answer what I honestly think. That weren't tryin' t'force nothin' from you, okay?" Jax nods, curling his arms around Micah and pulling him slowly back to nestle on the bed over top of the small piles of folded laundry. "I ain't feelin' pressured," he assures Micah, tucking his head against his husband's shoulder. "Jus' -- tryin' to get a handle on -- s'a lot in my. Head. Like I don't know if --" He stops, giving his head a small shake. "Hngh. I feel like a horrible person even thinkin' it, I jus'. Ain't sure entire how ready I am for another /mutant/ kid." Micah is easily compliant with the tugging down to the mattress, wrinkling the laundry or no. "Okay. I just...worry 'bout that. Since y'been there b'fore. I don't wanna do that t'you." His chin tilts down so that he can place a light kiss to the top of Jax's head where it tucks in against him. "It is a lot. Take the time y'need t'think about it. An'...I know." His lips tug into a slight frown. "Don't really know what t'expect of /their/ kid, but seems like...whoever the little guy ends up bein', life ain't gonna treat 'em gentle." "No -- an' I, I mean, I know that -- that means they're gonna need love an' support all the /more/. They ain't got half a chance at a /normal/ life but that'd be /no/ chance without a family that..." Jax trails off, tightening his arm around Micah. "It's just, I've done this. An' I try an' I try an' I try t'keep 'em safe an' happy an' -- but I don't watch the pups get beat on an' tortured an' locked in cages an' /killed/ an' --" His voice drops to a whisper. "An' I love them an' I wouldn't give them up for the world an' I feel selfish cuz I /know/ kids like that need /all/ the family they can stand I jus'. It hurts, you know? Every single day. Every wakin' moment an' half my sleepin' ones too it's like. Always there. Frettin' about what's the next thing gonna come by an' hurt 'em, wishin' so hard I could do somethin' 'bout the hurts they gotta carry already. An' I don't know if I got it in me to watch another kid go through all this." "I know, honey. What they'll need. An' I know y'get it. An' those facts ain't changin' no time soon." Micah leans in a little further, the next kiss settling on Jax's forehead instead. "The important question here is whether or not this is somethin' y'want. An' if it isn't, it isn't. This kinda thing's...almost impossible hard t'deal with ev'ryday. An' you already deal with /so/ much. I ain't gonna think no less of you if you /aren't/ ready for this, okay?" He simply holds close, studying Jax's expressions. Mostly at the moment there's uncertainty written into Jax's face; a small crease of brow, teeth wiggling at his lip ring, cheeks puffing out on a small huff of breath. "Okay." He tips his head up, touching a very soft kiss to Micah's lips. "I do know one thing. Wouldn't even be a consideration if I didn't know so sure I've got an amazin' partner here t'deal with it with me. I jus'..." His fingers scrunch into Micah's shirt, forehead resting against his husband's collarbone. "Let me think on it. Kinda too /many/ feelings right now I'm gonna have to sort through." "Mostly wouldn't even be a consideration if your crazy-face partner weren't here t'make crazy proposals t'begin with," Micah attempts to joke, tone a little lighter, lips curling back up out of their frown. "Take all the time y'need, honey. Y'should with somethin' this big." His hands reach up to pet through Jax's hair when his head rests on his chest. "Just know I love you. Whatever y'think an' however long it takes y'to think it. I love you." Jax smiles, small, but present. A tiny brief purr rumbles in his throat, head nuzzling up into the petting. "Love you, too, honey-honey." A small groan escapes him as he pulls himself out of the embrace to sit back up. "Though I should prob'ly love you somewhere that ain't on all the nice fresh laundry." Micah moves a hand down to Jax's tummy to add to the pettings at that purr. “Well, seems like we got two options. We can either put all the clothes away. Or we can stack 'em back in the laundry basket an' wait on it 'til later. Either way, free bed.” The purring grows louder, joined by a faint shiver of glow around Jax. "Laundry basket," he's already reaching to start tucking the shirts back into it, "sounds like it gets to the bed part much quicker." With a chuckle, Micah nods agreement. “Can't argue with that plan. Somethin' t'be said for expedience.” He sets in to assist with clearing the clothes off of the bed, leaving a warm-and-fresh scented space that is more than a little extra inviting.