ArchivedLogs:Don't Borrow Trouble

Don't Borrow Trouble
...at least not without a fire extinguisher handy.
Dramatis Personae Jackson, Micah	5 May 2013 The twins go missing. Jax is, predictably, freaking out.
Location <NYC> 303 {Holland} - Village Lofts - East Village
(Jackson-->Micah; TEXT Very Late Sunday night) You awake? (Micah-->Jackson) What's up? (Jackson-->Micah) The other day when Shane was talking to us did he seem to you like he was upset? (Jackson-->Micah) I mean of COURSE he was upset he was REALLY upset but did it seem like a running-away-to-the-ocean kind of upset? (Micah-->Jackson) Upset, yes. Leaving, no. He told Spence and 'Bastian he wasn't leaving. He meant it unless he's the world's greatest actor. (Jackson-->Micah) BOTH the twins are missing and I'm trying not to have a freakout except I think I'm having a freakout. (Micah-->Jackson) Missing? How long? Did they go back to school? Have their friends heard anything? (Jackson-->Micah) Only a couple hours. Some time this afternoon. But it's just WEIRD. Eric and Shelby were OVER here hanging out with them. They said they were going on a coffee run and they didn't come back. (Micah-->Jackson) Where did they go for coffee? Did anyone see them there? (Jackson-->Micah) They didn't say. I think they were going to buy actual coffee BEANS because we were out. But that could be a lot of places. And they never came home. (Jackson-->Micah) ... actually I still have no coffee I think I need some caffeine um if I were getting coffeebeans and I were BLUE where would I go. (Jackson-->Micah) Maybe I will go get coffeebeans MYSELF and ask -- um oops actually I guess grocery stores are mostly all closed about now. (Micah-->Jackson) I'm assuming they aren't answering any messages, either... (Jackson-->Micah) Actually probably the last thing on earth I need right now is caffeine. No. Not picking up the phone, not answering texts. Actually the phone just goes straight to voicemail now. (Jackson-->Micah) Both their phones. :/ (Micah-->Jackson) Yeah, late at night is not a great time for canvassing the neighbourhood... (Micah-->Jackson) Um. You want...I should come over? To help with the freaking out? (Jackson-->Micah) I don't know I'm freaking out a LOT there'll probably be crying involved and maybe I might explode. (Jackson-->Micah) I maybe set one of my pillows on fire. (Micah-->Jackson) Oh...no. That is not good. Would it... I mean, if being there will /help/ the fire problem, that can be arranged. In a few minutes. (Jackson-->Micah) Are you. Down by the river. Please tell me you are down by the river. (Micah-->Jackson) ...Might be. I could keep watch. With a fire extinguisher. (Jackson-->Micah) I have four of those. >.> (Micah-->Jackson) That seems wise. We can dual-wield. (Jackson-->Micah) Um. You wouldn't happen to. Maybe be able to bring caffeine with you when you come maybe. Probably there is at least some terrible 7-11 coffee somewhere around. (Micah-->Jackson) I will locate you coffee, yes. (Jackson-->Micah) I love you with ALL THE LOVES. Also. I love caffeine. (Micah-->Jackson) Love you, too, hon. Though I don't know if I can compete with coffee. (Micah-->Jackson) Maybe. If it is horrible late night coffee. ;) (Jackson-->Micah) Don't worry I DEFINITELY love you more than stale convenience store coffee. (Micah-->Jackson) I win! Y'know. Not that I mind. You and coffee. Kind of hot together. (Micah-->Jackson) Speaking of which. I am getting you coffee. It claims to be blueberry. We will see. (Jackson-->Micah) They make blueberry coffee? *_* (Micah-->Jackson) They /claim/ blueberry coffee. I will submit it to your judgement. 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 bright coloured sealife has made its way into being painted on the 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. /Click-thunk!/ says the lock in the door to Holland-house! And then it is opening to admit a Micah. He has hastily thrown his green canvas jacket on over what is fairly obviously sleepwear: a paint-splattered old white T-shirt and flannel pajama pants covered in tiny kodamas that all look /confused/. More importantly, he is carrying a little cupholder tray with a pair of enormous coffee cups nestled into it. They smell like coffee. And maybe blueberries. Micah takes a moment to leave his shoes by the door. “Hey, hon! Bad coffee is here.” The Holland-house smells a little like Mexican food and a lot like smoke. There is a lot of light in here, myriad lamps all switched on bright, and through it there are erratic flickers -- of colour, flashing vivid-bright; of strange ghostly half-formed images that start to take shape and then vanish. Micah is very /nearly/ tackled when he comes in the door but coffee prevents this. Instead Jax's socked-feet slide across the wooden floor ends with bracing one hand against the wall and just staring at the coffee. "Shelby's asleep," he says in a quiet voice, gesturing to the closed door to the twins' room, "she didn't -- want to leave without -- knowing if they -- you brought coffee!" Micah /said/ he would bring coffee and yet Jax seems pleasantly surprised by this. He pecks Micah on the cheek and then scrutinizes him more closely: "Ohmygosh. Ohmygosh you were /asleep/ and I woke you /up/ and you /never sleep/ and -- and oh gosh comecomecome you're going back to sleep ohmy/gosh/ I'm /sorry/." Micah plucks one of the coffee cups from the tray and holds it out like a sacred offering to Jax. Behold! One horrible convenience store coffee! “I told ya I was bringin’ coffee,” he adds with a chuckle, keeping his voice low once he is informed of sleeping-person. “An’ I wasn’t asleep yet. I’d just finished watching the new Doctor Who from yesterday on my laptop. Just wasn’t plannin’ on headin’ anywhere and had declared it PJ-o’clock hours ago.” Micah places a steadying hand on Jax’s shoulder, fully expecting it to be /extremely warm/. He presses the coffee at Jax with the other hand. Jackson takes the coffee, gulping at it immediately. He is in fact extremelywarm, a fierce burning heat beneath Micah's hand. "-- oh. Oh. Oh. Are you sure you --" Jax is scrutinizing Micah's PJs with suspicion. "Thank you. This," he tells Micah solemnly with a lift of the cup and another peck on the cheek, "is terrible. I mean pretty spectacularly bad coffee, this is excellent." The coffee cup is shaking in his hand. He might be a little jittery. "-- you don't think I scared them off somehow do you?" Micah sips at the second coffee himself, grimacing slightly. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s…acidic.” The hand on Jax’s shoulder attempts to steer him gently toward the sofa. “I really don’t think so, no. They were havin’ a pretty pleasant time yesterday as far as I could tell. An’ Shelby and Eric didn’t think they were upset when they left?” Jax shakes his head. "I mean kinda yeah like. Shane was upset just -- sort of in general at -- what that teacher said, at -- but they didn't think he was /leaving/ kind of upset, he said he was comin' right back. With coffee. And chocolate. Bastian too. This is just -- there've --" Jax is easy to steer, drifting along with Micah to collapse heavily down onto the couch. His nose wrinkles as he sips at his coffee. "There's another kid in their class who's vanished too," he says softer, "and there's been rumours about mutant kids being -- being snatched and I -- just can't stop thinking 'bout them back in those /cages/ being cut on and --" He shudders, and gulps at the coffee again. Micah frowns, little furrows forming in his brow. “Would they have gone after the other kid, if they heard about him goin’ missin’?” He settles onto the couch next to Jax, wrapping an arm around the other man’s shoulders. “It’s just…soon to come up with viable theories. Couldn’t even report ‘em missin’ to the police yet.” His eyebrows lift briefly. “Though, informally, I guess they already know. Account of Eric.” "They might'a," Jackson says, "but after /everything/ we just been through I don't -- don't think they would've without /telling/ me or answering my texts or anything." He curls both hands around the coffee cup, nestling against Micah's side. "Eric's -- Eric's /worried/ he ain't happy 'bout this at all." He admits this with a quiet note of puzzlement. "-- I didn't expect him to care." The arm squeezes a little tighter around Jax’s shoulders. “At this point, we’ll just have to wait. ‘Least ‘til mornin’ when we can ask around after ‘em.” Micah pauses to sip from his awfulcoffee. “He’s been hangin’ around Shane long enough. An’ it’s hard /not/ to be worried when kids go missin’.” "Yeah -- no -- I know, but he -- when they met it wasn't -- I didn't expect --" Jax's nose wrinkles. "I was /so mad/ at him when he came home with Shane," he admits to Micah. "You know he's older'n /I/ am," not that Jax is actually much older than the twins himself, "and Shane was /fifteen/ and -- I was so mad. But through all of /everything/ last few months he's just -- been there. Been kinda -- solid. It's -- His head ducks sheepishly. "Almost enough to make me regret castratin' him." Aaaalmost. “Oh no, that means he’s /ancient/,” Micah mocks playfully. Because…uh…he’s pretty sure Eric might be younger than /he/ is. “But yeah, I get you. Not /really/ appropriate on the age scale for a fifteen-year-old.” His hand rubs idly at Jax’s shoulder until... “/What/?” Micah clearly has never heard that whole story. Jackson blushes. "I, um. The day he came home with Shane. I might. Have. Cut off his -- I mean he was so /smug/ about it and Shane's just a /kid/ and I was -- protective." He rubs at the back of his neck, glancing sideways towards Micah a little guiltily. "I get protective a lot, Shane's so -- he /acts/ cocky but he's so /young/." Micah has gone all blinky. Because /what/? “An’ he still…comes ‘round here? ‘Cause that’s…not somethin’ you usually just /get over/.” He might be a bit stuck on this part. Jackson's head dips further. But then he maaaybe gets a little /too/ innocent of a look to replace the guilty one. "Well, I mean, you get good enough prosthetics and it ain't hardly gonna limit your life." Blinkiness gets replaced by giggliness. “I’m well enough aware of /that/. It’s more that…he still comes ‘round here. Still hangs ‘round Shane. Still /hits on you/.” Micah is shaking his head as he giggles, trying to be quiet about it. "I guess my castrations just ain't as potent as I'd hoped. I thought it was a one-night stand kinda thing but he's -- I think he's started really /caring/ it's --" Jackson shrugs a shoulder, nestling closer to Micah. "He hits on /everyone/ has he hit on you yet? Cuz he's /kind/ of incorrigible." Headshakes. So many headshakes. At /everything/. "Ohgosh, yes, y'don't remember?" Micah goes a little wide-eyed. Apparently Eric left an impression. "I guess y'were a little busy bein' Lucien'd at the time. It was... I've never experienced quite that /explicitly/ bein' hit on /as a couple/ before. I mean...'hit on' don't even quite cover it." He's holding back laughter, but it does shake through his shoulder and ribcage a bit where Jax leans against him. "I'm -- a hundred percent sure that if we /both/ invited him to um --" Jax is blushing, turning his face to bury it against Micah's neck. He straightens, though, to take a gulp of his terribad coffee. "I mean, he, um, was over here the other day with Shelby and Shane and -- and man if he'll hit on /Bastian/ and Shane at the same time he /definitely/ ain't got compunctions when it comes to couples." His head shakes, and the soft chuff he breathes out is maybe a laugh or maybe just exasperated. "... he /is/ pretty," is an idler musing. "But oh my /gosh/ he's -- gah." His nose crinkles. "I did kiss him," he admits into his coffee, "but I mean, it seemed like /everyone/ had and I wanted to see --" Another sip of coffee. "It was...less the couple-y part and more that /combined/ with the explicit part and the me knowin' him pretty much /not at all/ part," Micah clarifies...sort of. His words are almost as much giggles as they are speech. Jax's ongoing descriptions give him reason to blush, as well. "Aren't you just Chairman of the Mixed Messages Committee? Cut a guy and then kiss 'im." He tousles Jax's hair kittenishly. "Remind me not t'piss you off." "In my defense there was /months/ 'tween the castration and the kissing!" But Jax is blushing furiously, and his head lifts to nuzzle up into the tousling. "I -- don't /think/ you got any designs on my kids so you're prob'ly okay, I, um. I ain't never -- I /don't/ never -- getting angry ain't -- it's mostly just the kids. I get. Protective." Another gulp of coffee, and then his cheek falls to the side to rest on Micah's shoulder. "If someone's hurt 'em --" His fingers tighten against the coffee cup. "Oh, /months/, why didn't y'say before? That would be the polite'n civilised amount of time one expects to wait after a castration. Gotta time it right, like mailin' wedding invitations," Micah teases mercilessly. "Or was it more of a 'wait 30 minutes to swim after eating' kinda situation?" The giant grin finally melts as Jax's worry comes to the forefront again. "No, I get it. They're your kids, Papa Bear." He twists to place a gentle kiss on the top of Jax's head, since it is so conveniently relocated to his shoulder now. "Don't borrow trouble. There's enough to be had without imaginin' more. We'll start huntin' for signs in the mornin', an' sit by the phone in the meantime. S'the best we can do right now." "I'm -- pretty sure he had to wait /more/'n thirty minutes before --" But Jax just shakes his head here, blushing still. He drains the rest of his terrible coffee, leaning forward to set the cup down on the counter. His eyes close as he nestles back, curling an arm around Micah and then just snuggling in close. "Yeah," he agrees, a little uncomfortably but agreement all the same. "I should -- I should -- maybe. Maybe --" He frowns, his free hand dropping to trace against Micah's pajama pants. "-- you should sleep. We should sleep." “Y’think that’s likely to come?” Micah asks of the possibility of sleep. “Between the worryin’ an’ the /giant/ cup of acid-coffee y’just finished?” Micah sets his own cup, still mostly full, next to Jax’s. “I mean, if y’think so, I’m all for it. But if y’just need somebody to sit up with you, that’s fine, too.” Hazel eyes track the movement of Jax’s hand. "I -- no, I'm not -- can't -- probably can't sleep but you were -- it was PJ time already and I -- I mean I just don't know what to /do/ I -- they're --" Jax's hand is fidgeting, fingers restlessly twitching against one of the drawings on Micah's pants. His voice is sort of restless-shaky, too. "-- I might. Just. Need someone. Need -- you. Do you -- maybe," he says a little wryly, "you should grab the fire extinguisher." Micah chuckles softly, lifting one of Jax’s hands to his lips to place a kiss on the inside of his wrist. “I’ve been through so many different hospital fire safety competencies, I’m practically a professional at this point.” He returns the hand to its previous position after giving it a little squeeze. “Point me to one an’ I’ll bring it along.” "S'in the kitchen. Under the sink." Jax's fingers curl in against Micah's cheek with the kiss. He gets up, though, pulling away to dart off towards the kitchen and grab the extinguisher. When he returns, he sets the extinguisher down by Micah's side of the couch. He tucks himself back onto it, nestling against Micah once more. "S'why I'm dating you, you know. For your fire safety skills." Micah watches after Jax as he retrieves the extinguisher and returns. “Y’know, I suspected there was /some/ reason an’ I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. Was guessin’ maybe it was the first aid trainin’, so I was close! Good t’know what’s goin’ on if y’suddenly start spendin’ all your time hangin’ around firehouses, though.” Jax’s nestling facilitates Micah pulling the other man most of the way into his lap for cuddles. He makes for a decent distraction, at least, waiting for the sun to wake up.