ArchivedLogs:Prioritree

Prioritree
Dramatis Personae Jax, Steve	2015-12-21 "{I thought -- with the quarantine -- }"
Location <NYC> Harbor Commons - Dining Room - Lower East Side
Adjacent to the kitchen, the dining room is a fairly large room with an open lay out. It is generally set up cafe-style, with eight to ten round tables set a comfortable distance from each other, with a few bar high, smaller tables with taller chairs around the exterior perimeter. The floor is a middling dark fiber color, hovering somewhere around gray, divided up into foot long squares for easy replacement. The walls are a light green, illuminated by many windows. Halfway through the room, there is a small alcove built into each wall, providing a place for a dividing wall to recess out of foot traffic. Closet doors constructed of polished wood contain additional tables and chairs to transform the space from smaller get-togethers to a full scale party room for the whole of the Harbor Commons. Knock knock knock -- not that there actually /needs/ to be knocking, in the kitchen, and Jax doesn't wait for an answer before poking his freshly-shaved head in through the swinging doors. He's in a long-sleeved waffle weaved red tee, black corduroys, boots; the deep blue eyepatch on his eye has glittering snowflakes actively /drifting/ down across its surface. Jax peers into the kitchen, glittery red and gold nails tapping against the edge of the door. "Honey-honey? {You got a minute?}" Even his Spanish has a heavy drawl. "{I don't mean to interrupt long I just need a quick hand.}" The kitchen is fragrant with sauted onions and leeks. Steve has just tilted a pile of diced potatoes into a large soup pot, and looks up from his task with a smile. He's wearing a red t-shirt with a yellow star on the chest and much-mended blue jeans, his shield (red, white and blue replaced with glimmering red, gold, and green) slung across his back. "{Of course,}" he says, his Spanish coming more easily all the time, though still with a thick Italian accent. He rinses his hands off and dries them on a bright red towel trimmed in gold. "{What do you need?}" This as he heads for the dining room to join Jax. "{Need your -- arms.}" There's a small blush that floods through Jax's cheeks, his hands fluttering towards Steve. He pushes the door open a little wider, holding it for Steve to join him. The scent of pine is starting to fill the room, bright and wintry. There's a small bounce in Jax's step -- he starts to reach for Steve's hand but doesn't quite take it, flitting across towards the corner of the room, where a large Douglas fir lies on the floor next to a tree stand and hand-embroidered skirt. "{... need help getting this stood up straight. Kind of tough job to wrangle solo.}" Steve comes up short when he walks into the dining room. His eyes go wide with wonder, his mouth falling open. "Oh! Oh..." It's a few long seconds before he manages to speak in earnest. "{I thought -- with the quarantine -- }" He blinks rapidly, shakes off his surprise, and goes to the corner. Gets down on one knee and props up the tree with ease. "{There's still plenty of good evergreens in the woods out by where I teach. Took some hunting, but, I think we picked a good --}" Jax pauses with a small catch of breath. The red in his cheeks deepens as Steve rights the tree, his smile brightening. "{Okay, I should have said a tough job for /me/ to wrangle solo. You...}" He shakes his head, scuffing his knuckles against his goatee and then rocking back a step to eye the tree. Lapsing back into a heavily drawled English: "Can you tip it just the tiniest smidge t'the right, sugar?" He gestures with one hand. "{I'm not trying to show off,}" Steve insists, blushing. "{I'm just really excited.}" He tilts the tree to his right, ever so slightly, then glances back over his shoulder at Jax. "{There's been so much else going on, I didn't expect this to be...}" He blinks hard again, eyes going kind of distant. "A priority." "Oh! Right there!" Jax claps his hands together, trotting back forward to worm his way underneath the tree. He tightens the clamps on its base, snug and keeping it steady where Steve is holding it. "{There's been a lot, but I thought maybe it'd be nice to have a little bit of tradition around and I thought that maybe if I --}" He cuts off the stream of words that are starting to tumble from his mouth, finishing one final turn of the knob and peeking out from under the pine branches to look up at Steve. "I just. You are. A priority." Steve holds the tree steady, even after Jax finishes fitting the base to it. He looks down through the branches. Then seems to finally remember what he's doing and passes the tree skirt to Jax. "Me? {You did this...for me?}" He sounds a little incredulous, and more than a little humbled. Jax takes the skirt, sliding under the tree to wrap it around the stand and button it closed. He wriggles back out from by the tree trunk, still lying on his back just beneath the edge of the pine boughs. He rests his head against one hand on the floor; his other absently plucks a few stray pine needles from his shirt to flick onto the floor, though there are still plenty more clinging to his clothes. "I -- yeah." The red has crept back into his cheeks. "{I just -- seems like everything can --}" He hesitates, biting down on his lip. "{Like holidays might be specially --}" Another hesitation. His fingers continue to pluck at his shirt, though now just picking at the fabric without getting any more of the pine needles off. "I thought it might be good," he says, softer, "jus' -- t'have somethin'. Familiar." "{I've had a few bleak Christmases,}" Steve admits, his voice soft and a little hoarse. "{Especially that last one.}" For a moment he seems far away again, but then his eyes focus on Jax. And he nods. "It's good. This...is good." The shadow vanishes from his face altogether, replaced with a boyish grin. "So, lights and tinsel and the whole nine yards? Horus gave me an ornament which...in retrospect looks a lot like your handiwork." Reaches out a hand to help the other man up. "{Thank you.}" Jax nods, quiet, his bright blue gaze lingering on Steve's face. "{Saying things haven't been easy is. So much of understatement. But maybe we can help make some happy memories, too.}" His own smile is quick and warm when Steve's grin returns, his blush fading. "{Oh! You have one?} I been makin' some decorations but I'm sure we can scrounge up plenty more -- Ion's got a /stash/ from somewhere. Lights an' ornaments an' alla it, for --" His voice catches when Steve reaches out, eye flicking to the other man's hand momentarily. "-- for sure." His smile doesn't falter, at least. He lifts his hand off his shirt, skin feverishly warm to the touch as his hand clasps into Steve's. He pulls himself to his feet, one hand braced against the outside of Steve's arm; this drops to his side once he is up, though for a moment his fingers just tighten in the other man's. "You're -- welcome."