ArchivedLogs:Late
| Late | |
|---|---|
| Dramatis Personae | |
| In Absentia
|
2016-02-09 "{I was totally going to shoo him to /my/ room if you didn't want him.}" |
| Location
<NYC> {Birdhaus} - Harbor Commons - Lower East Side | |
This house does not, perhaps, look much like what many people would think when they think of the home of a rock star. Modest and not flashy in a normal sense, it is nevertheless /eye/-catching -- huge tall ceilings, huge tall windows, wide open layout, a balcony from the second floor looking down on the first. Its walls have been studded with a number of long branch-like poles jutting out at angles; from the ceiling hang a few different trapeze-like swings. The furniture is minimalist, low-slung futons and a few overly enormous puffy beanbags, tables set low to the ground. The extravagant entertainment system is the one concession to ostentation. Most of the ground floor is open in layout, foyer opening up into a huge living room, kitchen and dining rooms adjoining it, a small sunny conservatory tucked to the other side of the living room that looks out over the river, a wide full bath off the conservatory. The three bedrooms off the balcony upstairs each have their own bathrooms. There's another full bath and separate smaller kitchen in the basement, together with two spare guest bedrooms and a somewhat cluttered soundproofed room full of musical equipment. There's a knock that comes on Jax's bedroom door -- pretty late, Tuesday night. Well past the hours most of the Commons has gone to bed. Not that Jax has, really. He's /tried/ -- and even succeeded for a short while before eventually waking back up and not bothering with slipping back into nightmares. Instead he's at the desk of his basement bedroom, in boxers and a soft yellow Little Miss Sunshine tee, chewing at his lip as he works on a half-finished mermaid commission. "{Hello?}" His voice is quiet as he glances up. Ryan pokes his head in a moment later. "{You got company, man. I can shoo him away if you're busy. Felt you up, though, so figured I'd check.}" Jax's brows lift. "Company?" One hand rubs across his eye. He reaches for a shimmery oilslick-rainbow eyepatch, pulling it into place over his missing eye before he stands. He roots around for a pair of pants -- soft purple yoga pants -- and tugs them on as he pads to the door. "{Yeah. I was totally going to shoo him to /my/ room if you didn't want him.}" Ryan's grin is quick. "{Living room.}" Upstairs, Lucien has not actually taken a seat. He has shed his shoes by the front door but still wears a crisp peacoat, dark neatly tailored slacks. Hair Impeccably Tousled, posture very upright, attention currently focused on the cellphone in his hand. Jax is a little sluggish as he makes his way up from the basement, but his steps perk slightly once he gets upstairs and spots Lucien. "Oh gosh. Luci, honey-honey, s'-- late, are you -- is somethin' -- hi." His hand skims over the top of his fuzzy bright hair, nose crinkling up as he offers the other man a smile. He steps in closer, arms opening in offer of a hug. "{I mean, hi. Is something wrong, do you -- What is going on?}" Lucien glances up quickly, tucking his phone back into his pocket. "Jackson." There's a very small twitch at the corner of his mouth as Jax arrives; it fades away when he looks over the other man. "{Ah -- yes. It is late. Please forgive the intrusion, I --}" This breaks off, head giving a small shake. He looks towards Jax's open arms, green eyes flicking over the photokinetic slow and brief. Eventually, takes a step forward, curling his arms slowly around the younger man. "{No. I was only hoping perhaps you might have time to get a drink with me.}" "A drink?" Jax's expression is, at least, hidden through the duration of the hug; he turns his face in against Lucien's chest, his arms squeezing. Tighter. "Now? I mean -- I -- no, that's. Yeah. No. I -- let me jus' -- make sure Ryan ain't -- gotta go nowhere, Spence is -- here sleepin', I can't --" His fingers knead in against the back of Lucien's jacket. Eventually he pulls back, though, giving Lucien a small quick smile as he looks up at him. "Let me get real clothes on, honey-honey. Then we can go -- wherever you need." Lucien drops his hands back to his sides, eyes briefly closing. He pulls in a slow breath, opens his eyes again as he lets it back out. "Wherever -- /that/ would be asking a lot." He sounds just a touch wry. "But we can start with a drink." | |
