ArchivedLogs:Don't Let Go

Don't Let Go
Dramatis Personae Micah, Jackson	28 December 2013 So much of cuddles and crying. Sorry. :< (Takes place many hours after murder dress rehearsal.)
Location <NYC> Candyland - Village Lofts - East Village
This bedroom is bright, bright, bright, a cheerful riot of colour in contrast to the more minimalist scheme outside. It, too, has a plethora of lamps to lend it even more light than what comes in from the large windows opposite the entry; many of them bear stained-glass coverings in cheerful mosaic patterns to add still more colour to the room. The walls have been painted in pale blue with darker blue trim, though one is instead a mural of surreal fantastical artwork, odd unearthly plant and animal life spread across it in vivid colours. There is scattering of furniture here -- a bed on the wall adjacent to the window (usually dressed in vividly patterned mismatched sheets), a dresser opposite the bed, standing beside the large closet, both in wood that has been painted black and then covered in a swarm of brightly coloured images, too. The wall near the door bears an enormous handmade shelving unit, similarly painted; it is filled largely with meticulously organized art supplies. By the window, a desk stands in as-yet-unpainted wood; besides laptops and drawing tablet it often bears an eclectic mix of items, too. Comic books, knitting supplies, a hiking pack of climbing gear. It is another late night, well past Pajama O'clock and even moved on into time to retreat to the bedroom. Micah is in his blue henley shirt and tiny-TARDISes pajama pants, sitting propped up on pillows in the corner of the bed, legs sprawled out in front of him. In his hands is a mostly-finished baby blanket done in a minty green and white pattern with various shades of golden stars worked through it. He has taken to knitting Care Bears themed baby blankets for Project Linus, just to give him jumping off points on colours and patterns. This one looks to be Wish Bear. The green earthenware mug on the bedside table is about a quarter full of lavender-mint tea, the room subtly scented with the soft smell of the leaves and flowers. It's been another late shift at the Clinic, too; Jax has been quiet since returning home. Switch on sunlamps, grab a pair of muffins from the kitchen to eat, take a shower, brush teeth. He's only now returning from showering, hair damp and towel wrapped around his waist. He unwraps it to scrub at his hair, grabbing a pair of boxers out of his dresser and pulling them on. He hangs his towel over the closet door, plucking a small bottle of plain unscented lotion off of his dresser. He leans in to peck Micah lightly on the forehead before perching on the edge of the bed, rubbing a small helping of lotion over his legs. "That one's adorable." “Hey, honey,” Micah says, looking up from his knitting with a small, sleepy smile when Jax comes in through the bedroom door. The knitting rests in his lap, eyes lazily observing Jax's movements as he dresses. He leans slightly into the kiss. “Thanks...it was an experiment. Got bored of just doin' random colours an' patterns. Can only do but so many things for small rectangles before y'need t'branch out. Figure there's enough Care Bears t'get me a whole /mess/ of ideas. Care Bear Cousins after that. Move on into My Little Ponies once the Bears run out. Should keep me busy for a good minute.” "S'looking good, sweetie. S'gonna be some kid sleepin' snug an' cozy. -- You do Funshine next?" Jax asks hopefully. The actually largely uninked skin of his belly grows a cheerful smiling sun on it in bright yellow. He rubs the lotion in, moving on to his chest and arms next. "Oh gosh y'should make a Nightmare Moon one for Hive." He tucks his legs up onto the mattress in a pretzel, wiggling the bottle of lotion towards Micah with big puppy-eying. "Can Wish Bear wait long 'nough for you t'get my back, honey-honey?" “That'n should be easy enough. S'all yellow an' white. Maybe work it into a nice...either one biiiig starburst pattern or a lotta little ones. It'll be cheery.” The sudden sun-tummy earns a little chuckle. “You thinkin' of gettin' that done for real?” He reaches out to tickle-walk his fingers along Jax's stomach. “He's still so confused when I call 'im Luna.” Micah looks down at the knitting again long enough to finish off a row, stabbing the needles into the yarnball and stowing the whole kit away in his knitting bag. This he tucks half under the bed for now. “Truth t'tell I was gettin' kinda distracted an' bleary-eyed anyhow. She won't mind waitin'. Prob'ly got some star-gazin' t'do with her telescope, this hour of the night.” He takes the bottle with another smile. “Never arguin' about gettin' hands on you, anyhow.” He squirts the lotion into his hands first, rubbing them together a bit to warm it before rubbing it into Jax's skin, starting up at his shoulders. Perhaps moving more slowly and kneading a bit more than necessary just for a moisturising regimen. Jax shivers at the tickly-fingers, stomach tensing beneath them. "Cheery's a good. Can always use more cheery. An' I don't know s'/real/ tempting to get it but so much yellow'd just tend t'get fadey. M'probably gonna get the whole /lot/ of them touched up next weekend, though. It'll be kinda grueling but some'a them's more scar than ink these days. Next one I get for /real's/ gonna be the AURYN though." He exhales happily at the kneading of Micah's fingers, head tipping downward and his shoulders relaxing. "Oh. You spoil me, angel. You are pretty much the perfect end t'every day. -- How was yours?" “All of 'em at once. Hoo-boy, you're gonna be kinda ouchy all over.” Micah replenishes the lotion on his hands periodically, repeating the step of warming in his hands before returning to Jax's back each time. “Where are y'thinkin' t'put that one?” he asks of the tattoo plan. At the mention of spoiling he leans in, delivering a kiss to the back of Jax's neck as his fingers knead further down along his spine. “Ain't spoilin' none. I like feelin' y'go all relaxy in my hands.” Said hands continue working in silence for a few beats before he answers. “Had work at the shop after brunch. Came home and showered. Spent some time with Hive. Stomach's been a little upset most of the day. Got a whole wealth of ginger'n mint in by now.” "Gonna be crazy-ouchy all over," Jax agrees with a small wrinkle of his nose. He's definitely getting relaxy under Micah's ministrations, though, leaning slightly back to tip back his head and rest it on the other man's shoulder. He nuzzles gently into Micah's neck, his eye closed. "Oh, good. He's been kinda upset lately I think he could use some -- time. Friend. Hugs." He frowns, dotting a light kiss to Micah's neck. "You gettin' sick, you think? S'kinda the season t'get hit by all /kindsa/ things an' you been around the Clinic plenty lately it's like. Germ heaven. -- Should maybe stop takin' advantage'a your real -- nice. Strong. Warm. Hands. An' let y'get some rest." "Well, I better get my touchin' in while I can, then." Micah's hands slide all the way down Jax's back to where the mattress prevents them going any further, then back up to his shoulders. "Definitely had some hugs," he murmurs, sounding a little...distracted with that. "No, don't feel like a virus or nothin'. S'just some...upset. That happens sometimes. Should prob'ly pass soon, I hope." His hands keep up their working. Kneading. Touching. "Don't wanna rest," he protests, despite the tiredness of his eyes. "Rest leads t'sleep an' sleep leads to it bein' t'morrow. An' bein' t'morrow means not...this. Anymore. I just want.../this/." "You know I ain't gonna complain 'bout all the touchin' you want from me." This comes with a soft-happy sigh; Jax presses another gentle kiss to Micah's neck. "Hopefully it'll pass soon if it's just some -- wait, d'you mean upset like stomach or upset like feelings?" He sits up straighter after this, turning to face Micah better and curl an arm around the older man's waist. "Honey-honey, you can't fool me with that no more'n Spence can, you look half asleep already." He touches a soft kiss to Micah's face, just below the outside corner of one of those tired eyes. "You /have/ this. I mean, you're still gonna have me tomorrow, can have all the touchin' you want, alright?" His eye studies Micah's face, fingers trailing against his husband's side. "An' plenty of cuddles tonight s'well." "Mmn." Micah slides in a little closer to Jax, head tipping at the kiss, hands not moving from the other man except in lifting to shift to a new spot on his skin. "Didn't say I wasn't sleepy. Just don't wanna go t'sleep." His eyes close for just a moment, expression clouding over--briefly, almost imperceptibly, before he opens his eyes again with a small smile. "Plenty of cuddles," he repeats softly. Jax squeezes gently around Micah's waist. He lifts his other hand to cup the side of Micah's face, fingers fiercely warm on Micah's cheek. "I don't hardly never want to go to sleep," he admits with a small wrinkle of his nose and a dip of his head that is almost apologetic, for the frequent illusionary horrors that tend to crowd the bedroom when he /does/ sleep. "But I'll be right here with you. With," he reaffirms, "plenty of cuddles. An' the cuddles ain't gonna go away tomorrow neither. I mean, small break for church but after that I am all yours for the cuddling." His lips brush to Micah's, soft and light, thumb brushing slow against his husband's cheek. "You okay, honey-honey?" “I'll stay up with you, then, tonight,” Micah offers softly, leaning into the gentle touches. His own hands shift from more kneading with fingertips to broad strokes with the wholes of his palms, fingers splayed out. His eyes drift closed again at the kiss, pressing back into it a little more firmly. At the question, he lifts Jax's hand in both of his own, placing a kiss to the other man's wrist, his head bowed down and face conveniently hidden between the ducking and having Jax's hand in front of it. "Oh, sweetie, I'll --" Jackson hesitates, nuzzling against Micah's neck with that small wrist-kiss. "I'll stay up with you if you like but this time'a year I --" He bites his lip, squeezing Micah closer. "That weren't an answer," he points out in quiet murmur. His fingers curl in, brushing against Micah's chin to tip the other man's face back up. "-- I'll stay up an' give you all the cuddles you can stand. But I just -- you can talk to me if something's on your mind, hon." “Oh...oh, honey, I don't. Wanna keep you up if y'actually /wanna/ sleep. I can just stay up an' hold you, maybe. If that won't...keep you awake.” This is all murmured into Jax's hand, head still down. Micah resists the light brush of Jax's fingers, but when they curl in more tightly to press up at his chin, he doesn't increase his resistance to match. His eyelashes are clumped in little reddish triangular bunches when he turns up again, though no actual tears are on his face. “I just... I love you.” Jax bites down at his lip, concern stamped clearly in the frown that furrows his face. He lets out a slow breath, forehead tipping in to touch lightly to Micah's. "I love you, too, honey-honey. I love you a whole -- enormous lot. You won't keep me awake none but stayin' awake yourself while I'm sleeping don't tend to be --" His fingers squeeze in at Micah's side. "Is there anything I can do to help?" Micah leans in, pressing kisses to Jax's temple, jaw, neck, collarbones. “I don't care,” he replies to the concern over the sleep projections. “I'll be okay, I just...want you.” His face lifts again, pressing his lips softly to the other man's before shaking his head. “It's okay. Y'can...go ahead t'sleep. It's okay.” Jax's eye slips closed at the kisses, a small shiver rippling up his spine. He returns the kiss deeper, this time, his fingers sliding around to curl at the back of Micah's head. "But I'm yours. You have me. You /have/ me. Long as I live, you'll have me." He kisses Micah again, long and lingering. Micah returns the kisses with a fierce, needy hunger. He gives a small whimper at Jax's reassurances, wrapping his arms around the other man tight before kissing him again. Jax's fingers press in, against the base of Micah's skull, other hand slipping beneath the henley shirt to run fingertips lightly up against waist. Less lightly after a moment, as he shifts to lie back on the bed, returning the kiss with just as deep a hunger and pulling Micah down atop him. Micah leans into the touches, presses back against Jax's fingers, follows easily when his body is directed downward to cover Jax's. He covers Jax in kisses, as well: small and light here, slower and deeper there, here with a flick of tongue, there with a light press of teeth. Periodically he returns again to kiss his lips. These kisses, the touches of lips and tongue and teeth, draw small breathy moans from Jax. Beneath Micah's body his own relaxes, melting in safe and happy against the mattress. A dim flutter of glow blossoms under his skin, his face growing more flushed. His legs curl upward, curling around Micah's hips as his fingers trace slow meaningless patterns against the older man's back. When the kisses do return to his lips, they're met deep and full, lips parting and Jax's tongue tracing lightly against Micah's lips. As Jax's body relaxes, Micah's arms hold him all the tighter, his own body pressing down hard and trying to exist as close as two separate physical beings can be. The movements of his mouth are somewhat less claiming than usual, more...memorising. Shapes and tastes and smells and subtle curves. His hips rock to Jax more firmly at that curling of Jax's legs against him, pressing down and against him. Jax's legs curl a little bit tighter, holding Micah's body close against his own. His hips roll upwards when Micah's press into him, a very soft moan coming with this movement. His fingers knead light and gentle at Micah's back, running slowly against the muscles there. "I ain't goin' nowhere, sweetie," he whispers, head tipping down to kiss softly where Micah's neck meets shoulders. His hips rock upwards again. The reassurance earns another little whimper, another kiss. "I love you," serves as Micah's only answer, the words somehow sounding a little choked, a little pained. He rocks against him again, pressing down, squeezing tight, holding on. Jackson curls his arms snugly around Micah. His eye squeezes shut tight at that small whimper, at the pained note to Micah's tone. "I love you," he answers fiercely. He kisses Micah's neck, his cheek, his collarbone. "I love you." His arms hold tighter, pressing his husband's body flush against his own. His mouth presses to Micah's again, forehead resting against the other man's after this. "I love you." Somewhere between the kisses and the words, the touches and the holding, tears started to run unnoticed down Micah's cheeks. When the heat of them begins to burn he brings his forehead down to rest on Jax's shoulder, trembling, his next, “I love you,” coming out shuddery. Jax slides a hand slowly up Micah's back, fingers curling into the older man's hair. He strokes slow at the back of Micah's head, holding the other man close with these tears. His breath catches as they spill, against his bare shoulder, fingers still moving in gentle massage at Micah's head. "I got you. I got you, Micah, long as you need. Ain't goin' nowhere," he repeats again, but it's a little shakier, a little smaller, when he follows it up with: "Don't you leave me, neither." Micah slides slightly, moving to lay on his side, close up against Jax. He pulls the other man closer, just lying next to him and holding him and trembling. “I love you. I'm not...I'm not leavin'. Doin' everythin'...everythin' in my power t'keep everybody right...right here.” His breath hitches a few times as he speaks, catching his words and forcing him to back up a bit before continuing. Jax tips his head up, when Micah slides off of him, lips pressing soft kisses to tearstained cheeks. He settles in snugly against the older man after this, tucking warm and close against Micah and nestling his head against the other man's shoulder. "Everyone's right here." He turns his face in towards Micah's shirt, stifling a yawn, and curls his arm around Micah's waist. "Right here by your side, honey-honey. An' that's where I'm stayin'." Breathing in deeply to stay the shuddering, to stop the tears flowing, Micah nods in acknowledgement of Jax's words. He leans in and places a kiss to Jax's forehead. “I love you, honey. Just...so much it hurts, sometimes. I shouldn't...keep you awake, you're so...you do so much an' you're tired an' I /love/ you.” His arms squeeze tighter. “You go ahead t'sleep. I'll...be okay. I love you.” Jackson burrows closer into Micah's arms, body fierce and warm against Micah's. One leg slips between the older man's, fingers drawing downwards to just rest his hand against the small of Micah's back. "Will you?" He sounds quiet and uncertain. "Cuz I love you a whole awful lot too an' I just." He trembles briefly, face nuzzling up against Micah's shoulder. "Please. M'right here, honey. /Let/ me be here. You need somethin', you tell me. Wake me. I don't care I just. Want you to be okay." Micah nestles in closer, arms wrapped tight around Jax and not letting go. “I hope so. I think so. I... Oh, honey...I wish I could... I love you. An' I /need/ you, but I...just can't. You should sleep, tonight. An' I'll just...hold you an'. T'morrow we can talk more, okay? An' I'll talk an' I'll tell you everythin' an' we'll try t'make it okay. Please?” Jackson's brows furrow deeply, but slowly he nods against Micah's chest. His fingers trace slowly against the other man's skin and then fall still. "Tomorrow," he agrees, quite reluctantly. He tips his head up again, pressing soft gentle kisses to Micah's neck. Then just settling back in, tucked close against the other man. His cheek nuzzles gently to shoulder and then falls still as well. "Don't let go." It's the last thing he murmurs, soft and low before his eye closes and he slips off into silence, warm in the older man's arms. Arms wrapped around the other man, Micah squeezes tighter, just holding him and watching as he sleeps. “Never,” he whispers back, though there is no one to hear.