ArchivedLogs:... is ohgod.

... is ohgod.
Dramatis Personae Eric, Jackson	2013-04-17 (Follows No News...)
Location <NYC> 404 {Eric} - Sunrise Apartments - Clinton
Knockknockknock! It should not be a surprising knock; Jax has texted ahead to find out when Eric's shift ends, when he will be home, when is a good time to visit. And so here he is! Dressed in black capri pants, red straps dangling from large silver D-rings, a mismatched pair of black and red and neonyellow plaid knee-high socks, chunky silver-and-black sneakers, his red 'All my heroes have FBI files' t-shirt. Silver makeup. A FreakAngels messenger bag slung over his shoulder to rest on his hip. Thick black cuffs, also adorned with silver D-rings, at his wrists. And a fidgety /bounce/, restless, rocking up onto his toes as he waits. Eric has, indeed, just gotten out of work. His uniform is stripped off and has a thick belt sitting on the edge of the bed, handcuffs, badge, baton and gun settled in their respective leather holsters. When the door opens, Eric smiles and gestures. "Come on in," he drawls. "Sorry, just got out of the shower." he apologizes, as he unwraps the towel from around his shoulders and heads over towards his dresser. As he reaches down to open the drawer, the muscles on his broad back ripple visibly beneath the skin before they are hidden behind a grey shirt that goes quite well with his dark pants. "What's up, Jax?" he asks, as he dresses. Jackson enters, when Eric gestures, but lingers near the door. His /gaze/ lingers on Eric, watching that ripple of muscle with a slightly wider eye and an increase in nervous fidgeting, hand toying, jittery, with one of the straps on his pants. "Y'don't -- gotta apologize," he says, only looking away down to the floor with a blush once Eric has put his shirt on. "I just -- I know that we've not -- I know that you've --" His teeth click against one lipring restlessly. "You've -- you've still been seeing Shane, right?" He actually manages to say this calmly! The lights shiver for a moment, but then calm. Eric eyes Jax with a surprised look. "I figured that was why you were here." he says, crossing his arms over his chest and sitting down at the edge of the bed. "Why do you ask?" he says, giving Jax a suspicious look. "Forgive me - this feels like a bad setup." he says, eyes twinkling. Jackson continues fidgeting. Metal rattles against metal as he tugs at the strap on his pants. "I just -- wait. A setup for what?" "Some kind of..." Eric shrugs his shoulders and shakes his head. "Forget it. Yeah, I am." he says, looking straight into Jax's eyes. "Have you --" Jackson starts, but here he stops again. His hand drops to his side, his fidgeting briefly quieting. He looks around the apartment, biting down on his lip, and then looks back at Eric as he takes a tentative step away from the door. "-- why?" "Why?" Eric gives Jax a puzzled look as he stands up and heads into his kitchen. "You want anything to drink, Jax?" he asks, opening the fridge and crouching down to peer through it. He pops his head over the door to peer at Jax, beer in hand. Jackson folds his arms around his chest, tightening them, not so much a standoffish posture as an almost protective one. Soothing, maybe. Hugging himself tight, arms wrapped carefully like he is trying to hold himself together. "I -- maybe? What do you got?" He is looking down at his shoes and not at the beer, and it takes a moment before he looks up. He heads in further, lingering at the entrance to the kitchen space. "I mean why. I mean it didn't seem like it was much of a -- thing that was gonna -- last." "I didn't think it would." Eric admits. "I've got beer, coffee, water... tonic water." he offers. "Might have some juice, but I don't remember when I got it." he straightens up, looking over Jackson. "But he kept coming back, and I did too." "OK," Jackson accepts, to the offer of Drink, though he gives no further clarification. His arms stay tight around his chest, his head dipping in a nod. He blows out a long slow breath, cheeks puffing on the exhale. And then again, "OK." Though the second is heavier. "Is he -- have you seen him? He --" His teeth drag against his lip. "I thought you mighta seen him," is softened from being an accusation by the following, quieter: "I hoped you mighta seen him." Eric pulls out a second beer and he pops the cap off of them with a quick hit of the back of his hand against the ragged edge of the formica countertop. "I saw him a couple days back, but he and 'Bastian missed dinner on Sunday. We have another one coming up tomorrow, but...." he trails off, extending a hand with the open beer bottle in it to Jackson. "They've been declared missing. Their pictures are up in the office." "I know, I --" Jackson's hand is shaking as he accepts the beer. He sticks the bottle's mouth in his own, teeth clicking against the glass, and doesn't drink, just lips on it nervously. "I know, I -- yesterday a caseworker come by to ask if I done seem 'em but I hadn't and I hoped -- I hoped --" He shakes his head furiously. The bottle waggles along with this motion. "How long ago? Where did you see them what did --" He hesitates, closing his lips around the bottle again. "What did you do what were -- was was -- was he OK?" "Jax." Eric says, softly. He reaches an arm over and clasps the other man's shoulder, heavy hand squeezing gently at it. "Take a deep breath. Come on, take a seat." he says, pulling the other man gently over towards the bed. "And breathe. They were both fine, when I saw them. We went dancing at Evolve, and then Shane and I, and Sebastian and Shelby split up." Jackson closes his eyes, and beneath Eric's hand his shoulder tenses up, muscles hardening. A hollow echoey noise sounds in a soft hum as his breathing whistles into-across the lip of the bottle. He nods, accepting this steering to sit down heavily on the edge of the bed. His posture is tense, wired, his hand gripping white-knuckled around the bottle. "Fine when you left, too? Where was he -- when did he leave you where was he going?" "Yeah, when he left, he was... just fine." Eric says, a brief smile on his lips. He sits down on the edge of the bed as well, but takes a sliding step aside, giving the other man a little bit of space, despite the heavy hand still on Jax's shoulder. "He was going back to the foster place, I think. Or meeting up with 'Bastian, somewhere." "I don't think his foster folks never saw him. Either of 'em. Bastian -- he an' his girlfriend broke up that night, I don't -- I don't know if -- I don't know what --" Jackson taps the beer bottle against his teeth. Taptaptap. He still hasn't taken a drink. "I mean, they're kids, you know? If he was upset -- I don't know what they -- they're strong but there's /real/ dangerous folks out there." Eric frowns, and he squeezes Jax's shoulder a little bit harder, taking a long sip of his beer. "We'll find him, Jax. We've got people out lookin', and like it or not, with the press watchin', the brass is pushin' us pretty hard." he says, gently. "The press got a short memory, ain't been nothin' about it yet. And to be honest I'm kinda glad of it. If nobody terrible's found 'em already I don't want it getting out they're missing. Or I think they're like to /stay/ missing, there's folks who want them that --" Jackson shudders, beneath Eric's hand. The glass bottle taps against his teeth again. "If they /run/ off they'd run to water. If they ain't run off --" His head shakes. "Water." Eric looks curiously out at the kitchen, considering. Then he shakes his head, once, quickly, and looks back over at Jackson. "Hey. I'll keep my eye out, alright? I know they spend a lot of time at the reservoir, and it's my patrol." He pauses, chewing on his bottom lip for a brief moment. "And I've got a suspicion I might know where he'd go if he wanted to fuck the world for a while." He looks over at Jax, eyes flicking up and down him. "We'll see. Time'll tell." "Where do you think they'd -- where?" Jackson lifts his head, looking at Eric with interest, his tone a little too heavy to be /hopeful/. "The reservior. I taught Shane a place he could get in and out of the water without the police finding him." Eric says, a brief smile of reminicence flashing on his face - and something quite more passionate than the words describe gleam in his eyes for a moment, smouldering. "It's deep enough that he and 'Bastian could be in there for days without anyone seeing." Jackson studies Eric's expression, and a hint of a blush colours his cheeks pink. His silver nails click against the side of his bottle, and he nods slowly. "If you -- you'll call me?" This time it /is/ hopeful. "If you -- if they talk to you -- if you -- hear anything. Please." "I'll call. And... maybe we can all go out to dinner. If they come on Thursday, I'll see if they are OK with that, and we can have you out the next time." Eric gives Jax a little smile and his voice is confident. "How's that sound?" Jackson nods. He rests the bottle between his thighs, slumping forward to rest his face in his hands. "Next time. You been taking 'em out?" "Twice a week." Eric says, settling back and taking a long sip of beer. "Somewhat irregularly, I think, but, yeah. Been finding different resturants that are willing to let them come over, and we've eaten here a couple times." He gestures towards the bathroom. "Shower, too, while we're waiting for the food." In answer to this there is quiet. Jackson's breathing is a little shaky, though he is still, face still buried in his hands. It takes a very long time before he speaks up, lifting his head just enough that his words are not muffled into his hands. His gaze fixes steadily on the floor in front of him. And, very quiet: "Thank you." "I... like him. 'Bastian, too, but." Eric's smile twists into a smirking thing. "Not quite in the same way, you know?" he drawls, then pauses and looks down at the ground. "I reckon my Ma would break a spoon over me for not askin' you first." Jackson's face goes right back into his hands. His palms dig at his eye. "You askin' me?" "Be awful rude of me to ask before I talked to him 'bout it," Eric points out. He pauses, looking back down at the ground and taking a sip of his beer. "But... I mi', soon." Jax's palms continue to grind against his eyes. "M'kids ain't no ways my property nohow," he says, wryly. He lifts his head, studying Eric a long moment. "Should get him back first. Then -- then see where everyone's at." Eric nods and looks away, taking a sip of his beer and chuckling. "I have to admit, I sorta expected you to take another piece of me off for even mentionin' it." he drawls, clapping Jax on the back. "I'm glad to have all my body parts, still." He stands up, finishing off his beer with a long swig and heads into the kitchen to recycle it. "How've you been holdin' up, Jax?" This time, Jackson relaxes instead of tensing, shoulders slowly loosening at the back pat. The question earns a smile, but it's a small tired curl of one that isn't actually all that cheerful. "My kids are gone," he says, simply, by way of answer. "Yeah." Eric says, opening up the cabinets and peering into them contemplatively. "How's things going with that guy?" he asks, turning and smirking at Jax. "The guy in the van." Jackson blushes, deep, ducking his head again. "It's -- we're -- he's -- we're --" he stammers, but then just blushes deeper and stares down at his beer. "-- good." Eric chuckles, the sound dark and low. "That good, huh?" The police officer's eyes rake over Jax's body, and his smile grows wider. "I'm jealous. That good, that's the kind of thing that should be shared around." Jackson blushes even deeper, a trace of colour seeping out to tint the air around him with a reddish glow. "I don't -- I don't really -- I --" His head shakes. "-- I don't get jealousy," he says then, a little less stammery and more thoughtful. "Oh?" Eric says, taking a step closer to the man on the bed. "You don't get jealous? Does he?" he asks, taking another few steps to sit back down on the bed next to Jax, lacing his fingers in his lap. He is, perhaps unintentionally, a little bit closer than he had been. Jackson still looks down at his beer. "Jealousy's kinda a weird concept. I mean I don't own my partner no more'n I own my kids. Or -- vice versa." Though this comes with a sudden deepening of the red glow as he lifts a hand to brush absently against his neck. Eric's eyes light up and he leans in a little bit, face coloring red as he moves into the tinted light. "Is that so?" he asks, voice a soft murmur. His breath ghosts along the edge of Jax's face - peppermint and cinnamon. "Well, I have'ta admit, I'm rather glad to hear that." he rumbles. The red fades, slowly, withdrawing until both Jax and the air around him have regained normal colour. His nervous fidgeting stops, too, hand dropping to rest in his lap, fingers curling around the beer bottle. "-- are you?" His head turns, slightly, towards Eric, to look at him directly instead of sidelong. Eric's smile widens a little bit and he tilts his head, voice becoming a little bit lower as his hand rises once more to rest on Jax's shoulder. "Well, I'd be lyin' if I didn't say you were quite a sight." he says, and when his hand squeezes this time, it is with a little run up and down of his thumb over the man's back. Jackson shivers, and now his cheeks flush again, if faintly. For a moment his eye flutters closed, but then it opens again to look at Eric carefully. He leans in towards the other man, close; close enough that his lips brush lightly against Eric's ear. "Eric. You're datin' my kid. What kinda boy do you think I am?" Eric chuckles and turns to breathe a warm breath along the shell of Jax's, and his response is said as a low-pitched whisper. "I'm not datin' him. Yet. And, he and I share your opinion on jealousy." he says, in a warm purr. Another shiver, the red deepening to creep out into the air once more. Jackson's head tips down, for a moment, neck pressing slightly up into Eric's touch and his cheek brushing Eric's with the motion of his head. "Screwing my kid, then. Does that make it /better/?" "Doesn't make it worse." Eric points out, leaning in and pressing a gentle kiss to the tip of the shell of Jax's ear. His breath is warm as he leans his face against Jax's, jawline strong against his cheek. "No more than anyone else. S'same thing with you and your guy." Jackson's eye closes again at this kiss, and this time it stays closed, his breathing slowing as the glow around him trembles, and settles back into steadiness. His head turns, just a little further towards Eric, one corner of his mouth curling upwards. "You," he says, "are incorrigible." "I think I'll take that as a compliment." Eric says, voice full of a warm laughter. He leans in and presses another kiss to Jax, this one firmer and less of a ghost, right beneath the other man's ear. "And you would tempt the most chaste man to be." The red glow shivers again. "Now you're just flatterin'." There's amusement in Jackson's voice; he's not quite laughing but his smile is a little wider. He shifts, turning now to face Eric properly. "Don't quite get the impression you've had much experience with chastity." Eric raises a hand over his heart, as if wounded, and his eyes twinkle. "I've had my fair share when I was back home. Not for lack of tryin', mind you." he says, eyes dancing mischeviously. "Might be flattering, yeah, but that don't mean I don't believe it be true, too. You are quite a sight." As if to emphasize the point, Eric's eyes roam quickly over Jax's body, a flicker of movement. The gravel in his voice ratchets up a knot, as does the hunger in his eyes. One of his hands comes up to run the back of his fingers over Jax's cheek, slowly, and he leans in slightly. "I'd like to kiss you, now, Jax." he says, closing the distance between them. The red light pulls back, fading away again as Jax leans in the rest of the way, hard metal rings breaking up the softness as his mouth meets Eric's. Firm. Eric's kiss back is equally firm, arms coming up to wrap around Jax's body and pull him tight against his larger frame. His hands run up and down Jax's back, as his tongue traces along the bottom of Jax's lip, the tip of his tongue playing with each piercing in turn with a little deft tugging motion. Jax's lips part, his hand sliding up along Eric's back, too, running up to trace against the older man's shoulder. For a moment he holds this kiss, deeper, longer, and then he pulls back. He sets his beer bottle between Eric's legs as he stands. "-- I don't get it," he says, nose crinkling up in a lingering hint of laughter. "You're not /that/ good." Eric smirks at him from the bed, picking up the beer bottle and taking a sip. "Judgin' a book by the copyright page ain't a smart way to read." he drawls, raising the beer in a salute. His eyes twinkle and he actually winks at Jax. Jackson's head dips slightly at that wink, his smile decidedly lopsided and -- admittedly, a faint but definite lingering blush in his cheeks. He rocks forward onto his toes, for a moment leaning in towards Eric again, but then just nods, turning with a quiet laugh towards the door. "Call me," he says, heading to the door. And then stopping with a /deep/ blush with one hand on the door. "-- Oh gosh I /mean/ if you /hear/ from the --" He actually lifts a hand to clap his palm against his forehead. And heads out.