ArchivedLogs:Good Plans

Good Plans
Dramatis Personae Jax, Micah	28 August 2014 Cuddles and kisses warning.
Location <GA> Marriott Hotel - Atlanta
It has been an exceptionally long day of driving and then more driving and then still more driving. A pre-dawn start, frequent rest stops, a pause halfway through for lunch in southern Virginia (and a brief swimming-break for the pups), /many/ CDs worth of music, a giant pile of treats bestowed upon them by Micah's mother. By the time they reach Atlanta, it isn't /quite/ Too Late to pick up their badges but the prospect of waiting in the blocks-long line after the day of driving does not /entirely/ appeal to Jax. Thankfully, that's what children are for! With Flicker accompanying juuust in case anyone gives the twins trouble, Spence and the pups have been dispatched to pick up badges /for/ their dads, leaving Jax and Micah to check into the hotel rooms and unload the car. Jax is just lugging up the last suitcases -- even with two of them it took a couple trips to get everything, the hotel's bellhops kind of /swarmed/ with the giant crowds checking in today. He has not bothered trying to sort their and Flicker's bags from the kids' things due to land up in the adjoining room, instead just dumping everything in a pile to one side so that he can collapse in a sprawl on one of the beds. In contrast to the brightly (and oddly) dressed crowds in the hotel lobby he is just in comfortable bland Driving Clothes, black capris and a red-and-black jester-patterned tee, his sandals shed by the bedside now that Carrying Things is through. "I," he declares with a wrinkle of his nose, sunglass-shaded eyes turned up to the ceiling, "/so/ need a shower." Micah has been doing quite a /bit/ of driving, also dressed comfortably in sneakers, rainbow patchy jeans, newsboy cap, and Reading Rainbow-dash T-shirt. He drops the last backpack he'd hauled up on the pile before flopping down next to Jax, the weight of his fall bouncing him on the mattress a bit and knocking off his hat to reveal impressively messy and slightly sweat-damp auburn hair. “Everyone needs a shower. I'm pretty sure they make whole DC*TV PSA's about it in an attempt to thwart excess geekfunk. But...hey, look, we've got one right in the room.” Not that /he's/ moving right now, at least not beyond wriggling closer to Jax and nuzzling against his neck. “How're y'doin' after havin' t'push past all the people in the lobby? S'only gonna get more crowded through t'morrow an' then stay that way.” "Mmm." Jax happily nestles up at his husband's side, head tipping back to bare his neck to nuzzling. "/Do/ got one. An' if we /both/ need a shower I feel like there might could be a real nice solution here." Though he's also not-moving, wrapping an arm around Micah to skim fingers up the other man's side. A hard swallow rolls down his throat, breath exhaled slowly. "Ain't easy," he answers, "but I -- m'okay. It's been -- m'brain is feeling a whole lot less. Jumbled. Useless. Past couple days." His cheeks flush deeply as he admits, "prob'ly could use your help t'set up my stuff tomorrow. Gets hectic down there." The head tip encourages kisses to be added to the nuzzles. “Always been an ideas guy, you have,” Micah observes playfully of Jax's developing shower plan. The skin of his flank shivers pleasantly under his husband's touch. “Okay. Y'just keep me posted when things're /less/ okay. If y'need me t'hold down your booth while y'get away for a bit. Anythin'. Of course I'll help set up.” An arm finds its way around Jax, wrapping him close and squeezing tight. “We should all set up our calendars on the con app an' share 'em. Make sure y'get t'be where y'need an' that I'm where y'need me. But also we should make sure that somebody can get Spence t'the things he wants. Figure 'tween us an' Flicker an' the twins we can pull that off. B an' I can get 'im t'some science'n robotics panels an' maybe y'could go with 'im t'some of the children's lit. ones. An' we can just divvy the rest as fits best.” Jax's next breath is a little shivery, his fingers pressing more firmly to Micah's side. "Once in a while I come up with the good plans," he agrees with a giggle. His hand slides more fully around Micah, gently pulling the other man half over on top of him. "... calendar." Judging by his kind of blank look his planning hasn't gotten /that/ far yet. "Right, I should. Prob'ly look at that app -- some time ever. Alls I know so far is if I miss the Cruxshadows show Flicker ain't gonna forgive me." He wiggles at a lip ring with his teeth. "So m'schedule's wide open for bringin' Spence places, 'cept for making sure m'booth is took care of. He /wanted/ t'go t'a couple'a the panels the pups is going to 'bout mutant issues but I --" He bites down harder at his lip. "I gone last year an' I don't know if --" He pauses here, shaking his head and burying his face, now, against Micah's neck. “Mmhm,” Micah agrees softly, going along with Jax's current plan and ending up more /completely/ on top of him, knees to either side of his husband's hips. He takes extra care to position his prosthetic knee so as not to jab him with the much-harder-than-biological materials. “The music shows shouldn't be an issue. Most of 'em're late after the dealer rooms is closed an' maybe Spence should be in bed, anyhow.” His brow furrows at Jax's aborted sentences. “What? Is it...not safe, or what they talk about, or that y'don't know if you can handle 'em right now? I'm sure others of us can take 'im if it's the last one.” Leaning in, he places kisses to the top of Jax's head. Jax relaxes fairly immediately when Micah moves on top of him, melting back into the mattress with both hands now curling against his husband's hips. "Yeah I think the show's like. After one in the morning. Definitely after Spence-bedtime, we'll hafta make sure Shane don't keep him up till all hours." He worries at his lip again with the question, brows furrowing. "I don't know. A little'a both? There was /real/ interesting stuff they was talkin' about an' some fascinating conversations but -- kinda a host of -- creepy hostile -- I don't know. Explanations'a why we all need to be killed or put in camps or turned human or. Jus' might not be the most mutant-kid-friendly. But I guess it ain't nothin' he ain't heard afore." “Should just make a set bedtime for 'im an' put it in the calendars, too. Make sure he gets /some/ sleep even if the rest of us're bein' terrible 'bout restin'.” Micah lets his weight rest a little more firmly against Jax at the return of worry in his expression, hands moving to the other man's shoulders. “Maybe we can check the ones available an' pick a couple with the safest...topics or presenters? Have 'im go just t'those. I know there's gotta be some moderators who'll drag people back on topic 'stead of lettin' all the conversations go that way.” His fingers wrap tighter, pressing his husband against the mattress. “I can take 'im. It'd be good for me t'see what they're doin' already. I'd been considerin' maybe doin' one next year on X-gene medical considerations an' the prosthetics side sure'd fit with the kindsa things get presented on here. See if I can't start findin' /some/ audience. Figure out what people're tryin' t'help an' what they need t'do it. What people /aren't/ tryin' yet but might need in order to. Start guidin' that book I been thinkin' on writin' a little.” Jax nods, nuzzling up against Micah and relaxing once more at the settling of weight. "That'd be good," he agrees, "think it'd go better anyhow if it was you what took him, I feel like in a crowd of folks self-selecting for interest in mutant issues, one way or other it'd be disruptive if I was there. Can't imagine I /wouldn't/ get recognized in that group -- which would be kinda bleh even if it's positive an' not hostile." He tips his head back up, peeking at Micah. "Ohgosh! That'd be /neat/. I'd go to a panel /you/ done run. An' I'm real sure there'd be /plenty/'a folks here way interested in that kinda work." His expression has lit, and when he tips his head again it's to press a kiss to Micah's neck. “Hm, yeah. Y'do kinda catch the eye. People mightn't be able t'focus, you sittin' in the audience.” Micah's tone is lower, words molasses-thick, warm and breathy and quite likely not /really/ talking about panels anymore. “Don't worry, hon, I'll take care of things. We'll get it all scheduled out. Maybe even get you t'/relax/ a little on this trip.” His thighs squeeze in against Jax's hips. “S'the benefit of geek crowds, though. A /little/ more open-minded on average than most gatherin's of folks. Willin' t'get interested in unusual topics.” The kiss tugs his lips into a brighter smile. “We should go t'the aquarium, too. They got a special night the run durin' the con. That'd be a nice relaxin' thing an' the twins'd love it. S'a music an' dancin' kinda party if y'stay later, too, I hear.” Jax's kiss is returned in kind and repeatedly, to the angle of his jaw, along the side of his neck, at the hollow of his throat. Jax's blush is immediate and deep. "Oh /gosh/ I didn't mean -- that I --" His bashful protest cuts off at the squeeze of Micah's thighs, a breathy sigh squeezed out along with this. "That -- sounds. Wonderful. Yeah. We should." But here he trails off again, a soft purr thrumming in his throat at the kisses. His hips roll upward, pressing in against Micah's as his hands slide up over his husband's back. "... how long you think they're gonna be in line?" “You didn't. I did.” Micah's lips pull more lopsided in their smirk at that, an pale echo of Jax’s blush on his cheeks. His spine slides under his husband's touch in a feline movement, his hips pressing down to meet Jax's rolling up. A subtle pleased hum rumbles in his throat as well, the tip of his tongue tracing teasingly up Jax's neck to his ear where he is able to speak more softly. “Couldn't rightly say. Most con lines're fair long, though. Failin' that we got...locks. Do not disturb signs. That shower, even.” "Oh." This time Jax's voice is just a whimper. He grinds up harder against Micah, tilting his head to press his lips hungrily to his husband's. "... ain't sure locks help good against a pair'a teleporters," he adds, giggling again between kisses, "but we /did/ still need that shower." His hands are already running up, pulling Micah's shirt along with them though not quite yet /off/ -- that is precluded by the fiercer kiss currently occupying his mouth. Micah's lips capture Jax's, eager and claiming. The whimper is answered with a soft, low growl, hands pushing Jax against the mattress harder. “'Porters as pop into locked rooms unannounced deserve whatever eyeful they end up with. Oughta learn 'em t'knock like anybody else.” His words /also/ come between kisses, lightly amused. He wriggles a bit to help get the shirt...well, /up/. He's not breaking a kiss early for the sake of tugging it off any faster.