Haha, you see what I did there... >_>
1 September 2014
Remember to knock.
<GA> Marriott Hotel - Atlanta
It has been a long weekend and for more than just the holiday. Many experiences and interactions have been compressed into very little time, nearly all of them existing in a backdrop of constant-pressing throngs of /people/ and increasing sleep deprivation as the weekend went on. The curtains over the hotel window are thrown open wide to admit what afternoon sun has managed to struggle through the grey cloud cover. Micah wanders in and out of the dim rectangle of light pooling on the floor and one of the beds, collecting strewn items in a lazily disorganised attempt to begin packing. His auburn hair is impressively mussed, clothing once again simple: grey socks with small primary colour Daleks decorating them, bluejeans thinning at the left knee that will soon want for patching, and a black T-shirt with an image of a parchment page on it containing sketches of Toothless and prosthetic designs. He moves to cover a yawn as it starts, ending up with a handful of discarded T-shirt covering half of his face since it had been occupying his hand.
Flicker is not being at all helpful. The teleporter is lying face-down on his bed, shirtless and in a pair of black and green UFOs still, face smooshed into his pillow though slooowly he turns his head in Micah's general direction. His things, at least, are largely already neatly put away; even running on almost no sleep (and not even the assistance of caffeine to fuel him) he is conscientious about tidiness. He squints one eye open, watching Micah with a slowly creeping wakefulness. "I saw a woman. Huge mechanical Toothless that she'd built. Couldn't ride him, though." He sounds disappointed about this. He starts to roll over but gives up on this proposition halfway through, flopping back onto his belly.
There's a quiet buzz-click of electronic lock; Jax has been next door checking in on the kids to make sure they are also packing up. He looks just about as sleepy as the others, slightly droopy, bright weekend energy starting to wilt. He's in blue cutoff shorts and a wispy yellow asymmetrically-cut tank top, feet bare. Rather than join in the helping he actively hinders, moving over to curl his arms around Micah and lean in against his husband, burying his face against the other man's neck in lazy nuzzling. Maybe a nibble. "Spence is lobbying for moving to Atlanta," he informs the others. "Think he'd be sore disappointed t'ain't like this all year round."
Micah tugs the shirt against his abdomen to fold it, adding it to a pile of clothes that will need washing upon return home, all to be claimed in one bag separate from the still-clean items. “Saw pictures of a kid whose parents made his power chair into Toothless with mostly big blocks of styrofoam. Was real impressive. Didn't run into 'im m'self, though.” One corner of his lips tugs upward, bringing some light to his tired features as Flicker flops. “Those girls finally wear you out?” The teasing is cut short by Jax's arrival, as is the room-cleaning. There are hugs and cuddles to return, after all. Priorities. He catches Jax up in his arms, squeezing him close and placing kisses at his temple. “Hi, hon. Yeah, I imagine it'll be enough of a blow for 'im t'see the place all empty as we head out. Con seems to sweep out even faster'n it comes in.”
"There was only one --" Flicker starts with a deep blush, followed by a crooked smile. He buries his face back against the pillow, words muffled with his admission, "... two. Girls. Oh well and one at the concert --" His face is still bright red when he turns back over to peer at Jax. Then Micah. Then close his eyes again. "I saw a pretty awesome Final Fantasy airship wheelchair." He drapes an arm over his eyes. "It /is/ going to be odd. We might even be able to walk across the lobby in less than fifteen minutes now. And you guys won't have to wait five hours for an elevator." Flicker never has bothered waiting on the elevators here.
Jax lifts his head from the nuzzling to shoot a crooked smile over at Flicker. "Only one at the show? Was a fair /few/ hittin' you up for rides, at least." His fingers knead at Micah's back, sighing quiet and contented. "He's /been/ to Atlanta before but I think this time was a whole lot more memorable for him." He scowls at Flicker, hiding the expression against Micah's neck again. "Cheater. Those elevator lines was ridiculous. I needa learn how to teleport."
“Oh, I'm /perfectly/ well aware just how many there were,” Micah returns with a chuckle, though an echo of Flicker's blush does pick up in his cheeks, as well. “Hittin' 'im up for rides, right.” His smirk tugs more lopsided with the continued teasing, laughter glittering in his eyes. Jax earns the poor guy a reprieve as Micah melts in against his husband at the kneading with a deep sigh of his own. “Mmn. Think I'm /all/ knots 'tween the drivin' an' the walkin' an' the standin' in lines forever. An' tryin' t'keep up with the cheaters.”
Flicker's blush spreads up into his ears, visible next to where his arm has draped across his face. "People did like my kind of dancing." He is /so/ not saying anything about rides. "Hotel got cranky at B for webslinging hir way up to our floor. But seriously there's enough standing in lines for /actual/ things without doing it for free elevator too." His arm finally slides down off his face, his blush slowly starting to recede. "Do we have thoughts about lunch? -- And I can drive when we leave, if you guys are tired."
"Can't blame hir, I just started usin' the stairs but ten floors gets tirin'. -- An' I think folks like more'n just your dancin'." Jax giggles at this, still leaning against Micah, hands slipping beneath the t-shirt now to continue their kneading. "How about y'lie down, I'll give you a proper massage. Work out all that tirin' line-standing." His teeth close very lightly against Micah's collarbone, soon followed by a light kiss there. "Lunch sounds like more walking."
“Hotel was quite likely afraid ze was gonna break hir neck fallin' from a balcony an' we’d sue 'em. I honestly ain't always /pleased/ at the idea of 'em usin' those things past a certain height.” Micah's nose crinkles slightly at that thought. “Y'don't hafta do that, hon, I'm sure you're tired, too,” starts as an answer to Flicker, then nearly the same to Jax. “Sugar, you been standin' an' walkin' an' all s’much as I have.” Protests being what they may, he leans a little more heavily against Jax at the ongoing kneading and another sigh comes at the kisses and nibbles. “S'pose we could /drive/ t'food if we needed to.”
"That's because those things are terrifying." Though here Flicker smiles bright. "And fun. Besides, your kids are made of rubber." His teeth bite down at his lip, nose crinkling for a moment. "I could go get food. Bring it back here. What do you want?"
Jax shakes his head, gently nudging Micah towards the bed. "I don't hardly mind. Putting m'hands all over you ain't what I'd call /taxing/." His brows lift, smile briefly lighting his face. "I'd give /you/ a massage too if you turned back up with food. Tacos?" He shivers, though, at Flicker's statement. "They ain't rubber, they're more breakable than they'd like t'think. Don't ever enjoy when that fact's proven."
Teleporting assistance Micah's more than willing to accept. He fishes his wallet out of his back pocket and leaves it on the dresser. “Mmn...anythin' with fresh vegetables in it's perfection in my book by this point in a con weekend. S'money in,” he gestures at the wallet. “Thanks, hon.” And that's all they'll be getting out of him as to lunch questions since Jax is prodding him toward the bed and, really, it doesn't take much to direct him that way by now. He half-climbs, half-falls onto the mattress, briefly burying his face in a pillow. “Never would've made that prototype for Peter if I'd known our kids'd end up with 'em, too.” This last is largely muffled into the pillow.
"B's promised me a pair." Flicker seems so pleased at this, smile returning bright. He pushes himself up out of bed, leaning over to rummage a shirt out of his bag. He swings his legs down to wiggle into his sneakers, blipping across the room once he's dressed to nab Micah's wallet from the dresser. "I'll remember to knock this time." There's definitely a blush in his cheeks with this, just before he slips out the door.