ArchivedLogs:The Menu

The Menu
Dramatis Personae Micah, Jax
In Absentia	23 June 2014 A little time at home between jobs.
Location <NYC> {Lighthaus} - Harbor Commons - Lower East Side
Bright and sunny-light, this house lives up to its name. With a plethora of enormous windows flooding the place with light and an open layout, the ground floor feels more spacious than it is. The small entryway has a closet space for shoes and coats, and doors at either side leading to the neighboring apartments. Past this it opens straight into the living room, a wide expanse of space bordered on one side by a curved set of stairs leading up (with colourful glass tiling on the risers between each stair) and next to these, the half-wall into the kitchen. Cool pale tile underfoot and many dark cabinets with a small walk-in pantry, plentiful custom granite countertops, black and speckled faintly with rainbowy flecks, lots of hanging space overhead for cookware, a large double-oven. There's a strip of rather detailed mosaic-work in the kitchen backsplash, colourful glass tiling depicting strange fantastical herbs and small faeries and firelizards darting among them. In back of the kitchen, a door opens up to a small sunroom, wide and two-stories high with a balcony overlook from the second floor; two of the windows here have cushioned windowseats, and there's a wealth of herbs growing in hanging pots and small window-boxes. The back wall of the living room is nearly entirely dominated by windows, huge and allowing a view of the river beyond with bench windowseats lining the sills. There are plentiful paintings on the wall, surreal and fantasy-inspired, mostly in shades of blacks greys with bright bursts of colour that are mirrored in the decor -- monochrome upholstery on the couch and armchair but colourful throw-pillows, black and white huge corduroy beanbags (and one large red doggie-bed,) soft throw rugs also in mostly black and white with splashes of rainbow woven in. The hand-built furniture -- tall chairs by the kitchen/living room counter, dining table and chairs in the kitchen, low coffeetable in the living room -- has been hand-painted as well, black with bursts of colourful abstract designs. Along the living room's other wall, doors branch off to a full bathroom -- in white and deep blue with one wall of the shower done in colourful intricate mosaic too, an underwater scene full of strange mythical water-creatures; tiny water-sprites have been interspersed at random points in the rest of the wall tiles, as well. There's a small studio space beside the bathroom, large windows as well and a gratuitous amount of shelving and cabinets along the walls; this room has very /little/ colour in it, just white walls and black furnishing. It is just starting to get dark outside as Micah wanders in from the workshop where a lot of the furniture crafting is taking place these days, now that it is set up. He is dressed in clothes to get messy: a sunny yellow paint-splattered T-shirt and a pair of grease stained bluejeans with old sneakers. His tousled auburn hair is a bit sawdusty to match. His first stop is the refrigerator and the pitcher of sweet tea inside, which he pours into /two/ glasses, anticipating his husband's return any moment. It can always revisit the refrigerator if he runs late. Jax's glass takes a breather on the counter while Micah lifts his for a long drink. One cool condensation-coated hand drags across his forehead afterward. Jax turns up predictably on time. 'Dressed for work' doesn't mean very much, for him; today it's a bright blue vinyl skirt over knee-length silver leggings, white tank top, chunky sneakers that were some other bright colour that is fading away to their actual red-grey-black as he comes in the door and takes them off to deposit them and his bag by the door. "Hihihihihi." He is /zooming/ over towards Micah; there's practically a screeching of brakes as he checks himself to avoid a /collision-course/ hug and allow his husband to set his drink down /first/. /Then/ hug, tight and very warm. "How're you doin' how was your day oh gosh you're all dusty I gotta remember t'tell Hive how /awesome/ the workshop is I could jus' about live in there glassworkin' every -- /oh/ tea." Predictably everything. Micah immediately moves to set his glass back on the counter when he hears Jax at the door, arms at the ready to receive hugs as his husband skids toward him. "I'm good. Just got in from the workshop, yeah. S'amazin' nice t'have right close t'home. Coffee table should be done in the next day or two, dependin' how much time I get on it." He leans in to kiss Jax's jaw, in time with the announcement, "Yep. Proper dirty. Mightn't get m'shower 'til after Spence gets t'bed t'day, as things're goin'." Chuckling, he collects the other glass of tea and hands it to Jax. "Did you eat? There's dinner in the fridge if y'want now. Or y'could take t'work. Or I could bring by t'work later. S'options dependin' how empty your belly is." "Ohhh." This comes out in almost a moan. Jax doesn't even really let /go/ of Hug; he keeps one arm curled around Micah, his other hand reaching for the glass, gulping greedily at the sweet cold drink with his eye dropping closed blissfully. He drains half the tea without stopping, pressing the side of the glass to his cheek and forehead once he finally pauses for breath. "I like you dirty," he finally says, lowering his glass and leaning in to nuzzle against Micah's neck. "Worky-smell. It's nice. S'a good --" His words cut off into a small kiss, teeth closing gently against his husband's collarbone before he lifts his head again. His arm curls more firmly around Micah, fingers kneading at the small of the other man's back. "Oh. Oh /food/? I didn't -- um. No no wait I had food, there was, someone brought Chinese at the studio. I'm /starving/ though." Micah's grin tips a little lopsided at Jax's reactions, his chin nestling against the other man's shoulder. "Well, good, 'cause this is mostly how I come these days." One hand rakes through his hair. It...really /is/ a shade dusty. Poof. "Mmhm, food. Got a little yellow curry rice noodles with veggies an' tempeh an' a rainbow salad. Could salad at you while the other reheats, if y'want." Not that he's moving from the mini-massage going on just now. "Just 'cause y'ate before don't mean y'don't need more by now." "Pre-mussed for my convenience." Jax kisses at Micah's collarbone again, hand sliding up further to continue the tinymassage in a slow kneading rub up against Micah's back. "Ohgosh curry noodles an' tempeh an' salad I want /all the things/. Every things. Wait no can I jus' eat /you/ while it reheats. You're also delicious. M'greedy. An' you /are/ conveniently dirty already." "Yep, that's totally why I don't bother with the hair much," Micah says with an exaggerated nod implying that's not /really/ it at all, but very convenient as an excuse. "Ohgosh." He arches back into the rubbing, a feline slip of spine into the touch. "Hmm...what time d'you need t'get t'work again? Reheatin' is /awful/ fast. Should maybe also consider the bigger picture timeline here. S'another...almost hour 'til I should be gettin' Spence ready for bed." "Got third shift. Don't start till midnight." Jax pulls back, slightly, hand lifting higher to knead against Micah's shoulderblades though his head turns aside so that he can drain the rest of his tea and set the glass down. He nuzzles back in against Micah's neck, curling both arms around the older man, now. "Possible you also don't bother with the hair on account'a it's hopeless," he adds with a small giggle. "Oh, that's /forever/ away." Micah's shoulders roll back into the kneading, hips and stomach pressing closer to Jax in counterbalance. A soft purr rumbles deep in his throat somewhere between the massage and the nuzzling. "It's hopeless or I am. One of those." His hand sneaky-slips its way under Jax's shirt, fingers rubbing against his belly. "S'up t'you when y'want your /actual/ food. Say the word an' I'll get it started." Jax's breath catches softly, predictable again in his sudden melting, his quiet-happy purring at the belly rubbing. Both hands rub slowly against Micah's shoulders, eye closing and a warm glow flushing around him. "Mmm. Nofair. Belly rubs are so distracting. Wait." His eye opens again suddenly. "Can we get a cat? I miss Sprite. I just /found/ her one day she wandered in and never left and now she's --" He trails off, melting back in against Micah with a firmer kneading that travels slowly back down against his husband's back. Micah's arms encircle Jax more firmly at the melting, supporting him in his bonelessness. Not that this stops the belly rubs or even impedes them any. "Can keep right on distractin' for a bit. 'less you really /are/ starvin'." His head dips down to press his lips lightly to Jax's throat here, then there, like a bumblebee visiting several flowers in a bunch. "Y'know, I'd just been thinkin'... Violet hangin' 'round had me missin' havin' a cat in the house. Sure there's plenty of rescues this time of year." The purring grows louder at the line of kisses, Jax's head tipping back to allow them better access. "Maybe some time soon we can go check out the Humane Society or somesuch. Find someone who'll compete with me for alla the best patches'a sunlight again an' ruin all my corduroy upholstery 'fore the pups can get to it." "We could," there is a pause here for more kisses, along the other side of Jax's neck, "get a little cat tree with scratchin' posts on it. Maybe discourage the upholstery ruinin'." Micah chuckles, light and breathy against the other man's skin. "Maybe should make some corduroy posts for the twins, too." His fingers scritch in against Jax's stomach, moving from belly button to sternum and back slowly. "Though, with this house? It'd take a whole /passel/ of kitties t'really compete for sunny spots." "Definitely need some scratchin' posts for the pups, I shoulda done that years ago." There's a little bit of a whimper, now, in Jax's voice, with the scritch of Micah's fingers. A calico cat appears puddled in the windowseat, soon followed by a dark black-on-black Bengal very similar to Sprite, curled up in one of the beanbags. A floppy fluffy Ragdoll lazing on the back of the couch. A shorthair disappearing up the stairs. He's turning biiig puppy-eye to Micah. "S'a good plan, right? Could even give 'em a couple for their place." Micah's lips twitch upward in amusement, his fingers continuing their slow circuits over Jax's tummy. "Now, I didn't mean we needed t'/get/ a whole passel of kitties. One's usually enough. /Maybe/ two. There's Obie t'think about, after all. Can't have the poor pup terribly outnumbered." "They do have scratchable bedroom walls now, 'leastways. Not so sure about the chewin', though. They still kinda jus' like t' -- gnaw on you. Or m'arm if I got the energy t'shield it." The horde of cats is starting to multiply further, but it fades when Micah says /maybe/ two. They melt away into nothing, and Jax leans back into Micah, purring resuming and his belly tightening against the rubbing. His head tips back, lips pressing to Micah's neck. Then closing against the skin in a small suckling that pulls back shortly. "-- No okay. You first. Then food." There's a sudden /intensity/ to his tone -- but then again, lately there's been an intensity to half of /everything/ with him. Summer is just like that. "That might help things some. Keep the nails worn down like dogs walkin' on concrete." Micah's amusement is clearly not fading with all of this talk. He /might/ breathe a sigh of relief when the ever-growing cat horde thins back out. His chin tilts back, the rumbling from his throat resuming just in time for Jax to feel it through his lips. "Mmn. Lookit you, all decidey. Think I can get y'dished up an' sated either way, so that sounds like a plan." He slides away from Jax just enough to slip two fingers under his collar and tug in the direction of the stairs.