ArchivedLogs:More Favors

More Favors
Dramatis Personae Eric, Hive, Jackson	2013-05-16 '
Location <NYC> 404 {Eric} - Sunrise Apartments - Clinton
The room is clearly a low-rent Manhattan apartment. Cramped and with peeling, stained paint, the room is fairly sparse. There is a small closet - no door - with clothes hanging in it, and a dresser full of more clothing. There is a bedstand with a light on it, and his fridge is always full of beer - but other than that, there is very little in the apartment. Up on the fourth floor of the Shitty Sunrise Apartments, Eric has his computer open as he's sprawled across the bed. He is, quite lazily, reading the news, and glancing restlessly at the clock in the corner of the screen. He switches tabs, moving to read information about the baseball game on tonight. Bored, bored, bored. He closes his laptop and stands up, walking over to his closet to begin shifting through clothes. "I can get dressed, at least. Even if it's early." There's a knock that sounds on Eric's door. Bangbangbang. It's hard and heavy, impatient. Outside Hive is also looking kind of impatient. Disgruntled. A frown on his face, hands shoved into the pockets of his sturdy work jeans. He's paired them with heavy work /boots/ and a black t-shirt that's still sort of sweat-stained. It's been a long day out at the construction site. Jax is with him, looking considerably BRIGHTER. Black capri jeans liberally adorned with zippers and pockets and straps, his red 'All my heroes have FBI files' t-shirt, glitterbright makeup, peacocky green-blue-purple hair. A nervous bouncy energy that makes him rock back and forth on his chunky platform sneakers. The pounding sound arouses Eric instantly from his drowsiness. He turns to his dresser and opens the top drawer, pulling out a handgun. << Shit, shit. >> "One second!" he calls out, stepping slowly over to the door, gun half-raised. He approaches cautiously, then leans forward to peer through the peephole. He relaxes, markedly, when he sees Jax through the peephole. Eric lets the gun fall back to his side as he undoes the multiple locks and opens the door. "Heya, Jax. Heya." he says, eyes sliding warmly over the two men in turn. "I didn't know ya' were comin' over. Come on in," he says, pulling the door open fully and taking a step back. "Jesusfuckingchrist," Hive is instantly stepping back -- admittedly even in this retreat he's stepping back in /front/ of Jax, half blocking the other man, with both his hands /up/ by his shoulders, palms out, when he sees the gun at Eric's side. "Fucking hell, dude, who the shit are you /expecting/?" Jackson tenses, and there's a brief shimmer in front of Hive that is soon to fade. "It's just us, Eric," he says placatingly, quiet. He slips around from behind Hive, Eric reflected for a moment in the mirrored lenses of his glasses. "Sorry. We didn't call. Hi." "Don't worry," Eric says, with a bright smile. "It's not pointed at you." Sure enough, it is pointed, relaxed, down at the ground. "Come on in, guys. Can I get'ya some beer or somethin'?" As much as he projects the image of a relaxed figure, the pounding on the door has reminded him too much of his experiences with a certain electrical mutant to not have a worm of tension still wriggling through him. He steps back away from the door, stepping back over to his drawer to place the handgun back in it. "No." Hive is still eying the gun, until it is put away; only then does he follow Jax into the apartment and close the door. "You busy? Got a few?" "It's -- it might be important," Jax sounds apologetic about this. "We -- actually have sort of a -- favour to ask. Maybe. Kinda a really big one." "It seems you only come over to talk to me when you need a favor, Jax, and it's never the fun kind." Eric teases, lightly. He flops down on the bed, sitting hard and placing hands behind him as he leans backwards. "Shoot." From this angle, his eyes flick up and down Jax, then Hive. << God damn, I'd like to see /both/ of them stripped down. I need to invite more hot guys over. >> More. "Do you want me to strip for you?" Hive -- sounds quite serious about this. He leans back against the kitchen counter, his dark almond eyes fixing on Eric and his hand dropping to the hem of his shirt. "Would it be better maybe? Blow you first, then ask for help?" Jax just scrubs his hand against his cheek. "M'sorry," his voice is quieter. "I know. It's just -- things have been -- I know." He is starting to pace. Back and forth, between Hive and Eric. "It just wasn't anything I wanted to put in -- it was better to come in person, I -- we should've called." "Jax. I'm teasin'." Eric says, a note of concern in his voice. He straightens up, and glances at Hive. Glances /over/ Hive. "Well, I'd certainly like that," he drawls. "But my favors don't cost you favors, and 'specially not of that kind. You can come blow me when you wan'ta." He hopes that it Hive will want to, soon. "What is it?" "It's the kids," Hive says. His hand drops back to his side sans stripping. He slumps a little further, elbow braced against the counter and a tired expression on his face. "The terrorist had some shit on him when he vanished. Gadgets. With GPS chips in. So we traced 'em." "To the police station -- mm. Your precinct," Jackson continues, still pacing. "They're locked up in evidence there. We don't -- we don't want to /take/ them or anything like that. But there was a guy -- Hive heard some things. Thoughts." "Peter." Eric sounds tired, now, himself, and he runs his hands through his hair. "What did you hear, and from whom?" he asks, falling back onto the bed fully and staring up at the ceiling now that Hive is no longer providing him a show. << Shit. I'm going ta end up in prison for interfering with a federal investigation. I wonder if it was Marlow. Hates mutants enough. >> "The detective who was helping us. Chao? He kept thinking shit about some Lieutenant. Anders. Works in Missing Persons, I think." Hive shrugs. "When we brought up the mutant kids he kept wondering if it had something to do with cases -- this Anders dude has been picking out. Sitting on. It could be nothing, I mean, some people are dickbags. I wouldn't be surprised if there are people who shelf the mutant cases just cuz they don't /care/. But --" He glances over to Jax. "But there's a girl I know who --" Jackson blushes deeply, as if /aware/ that what he's about to say sounds Kind Of Crazy: "Talks to birds and the birds found -- I mean, it could /also/ be nothing, it was a piece of a shopping bag but it's the same one that's missing at home from when Shane went for coffee and didn't come back. And it was near our house, ish. And they -- I mean they're /birds/ I don't know how reliable they are but they found it in an alley near -- sort of near my house and they said there was -- lightning." He frowns. "A blue person. And lightning. -- Electricity, maybe? And, um." He swallows. "There /is/ one group of people who carries -- electric weapons kind of frequently." "Chao. Yeah, I know him." Eric says, worrying his bottom lip with his teeth for a minute. "Lieutenant Anders is the head of Missing Persons at the station." he says, slowly. "Hasn't been particularly anti-mutant. Old guy - really involved in the union." He sits up and looks at Jax, shaking his head once. "I could believe the cops were involved in Peter - kid is awful embarrassing to us, and I could see someone beatin' the hell out of him for the shit of it, but... not Shane and 'Bastian. The brass would have your badge in a heartbeat, for all the shit /you/ put'em through." "Be dumb as fuck to take his kids," Hive agrees. Sort of mildly. His arms cross against his chest. "We just want to know -- not a lot. Just. Who -- might've signed Peter's shit into evidence. Just -- just give us someone to talk to about this. Something to go on." "We just don't have a lot of other leads," Jackson's voice has a slight edge to it -- worry? Exhaustion? Desperation? It's something brittle and tired rather than angry-hard. "But they said there was a blue person and -- sparks. Zapping. And it's /his/ bag. And Peter's things were at the station and -- and maybe /someone/ at least has a little bit more of an idea where to even /look/." Eric pauses for a few seconds, then he lets out a long sigh. << Shit. >> He runs a hand through his hair, and then nods. "Alright. I'll take a look." << For Shane. >> "No promises that I'll find anythin' useful, but... I can take a look and at least see who signed the stuff in." "Thank you." This comes gruffly from Hive. He straightens from the counter, shoving his hands in his pockets. "We miss him like fuck, too." Jax just flushes, darker. His head tips downward, mirrored gaze fixing on the floor. After a moment his pacing ceases, near Eric's bed. He leans in to peck the older man lightly on the cheek. "Thanks." Eric reaches upwards to gently squeeze Jax's shoulder, and he glances at his watch. "I wasn't going to work tonight, but... I can call in, see if they need me to pull another shift. I bet they'll say yes, and it'll give me a reason to be at the station." he says, standing up. << Maybe I'll go to the club and pick up someone, first. I need to get laid. >> Hive exhales long and slow. His fingers scrub through his hair, fingertips scuffing in a slow path along the side of his head. For a while he is still, giving Eric a -- /long/ look, his eyes skipping over the other man. His quiet muttered "Fuck," is almost under his breath. He turns for the door, holding it open for Jax. Jax lifts his hand, resting it over Eric's for a moment; his skin is /very/ warm to the touch. "Thanks," he says again, and bows his head as he heads out. Eric's eyes flick up and down Hive, and his smile tugs at the edges of his lips. His ability to imagine things in his mind, it turns out, is quite good, and lasciviously thinking about Hive, naked, squirming and moaning loudly as Eric deliciously works him over is probably not the most polite thing to think about when the telepath is nearby. "No problem, Jax," he says, and there is a trace of gravel in his voice. Hive watches as Jax heads off. There might be an exchange between them -- but it's silent, if it's there, and Hive -- doesn't follow the other man out. He closes the door behind Jax. And leans back against it, turning to look at Eric again. "You think," he says, "very loudly." "All the time, or just now?" Eric drawls, eyes flicking over the other man. The image in his head changes - to be just what he is seeing, though from Hive's prespective - at least, how he imagines it. Imagines him stepping closer to Hive, hands running over him, dropping to his knees. The look on his face is innocent but for the mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "All the time," Hive decides, after a moment. His eyes sweep over Eric's body; it's a lazy slow drift of motion, from head downward. "And now." Eric takes a step forward, movement matching what he had been imagining a moment before. "And what made'ya decide to stay, Hive?" he drawls, closing the distance between the two men before he is only a foot away, towering over Hive with a wide grin. "Curiosity," Hive answers bluntly. And just as blunt: "... unlike with most people, I wouldn't feel guilty if I lost control and fucked," this draws his mouth into a thin and kind of humorless smile, "-- up your head." Eric's grin spreads wide. "I've been known to be an experiment. And, m'not sure how permanently you could harm my head anyway." He presses hands to Hive's chest, running hands up and down the other man's sides for a moment, weight pushing him back into the door. Next to Eric's, Hive's weight is not significant, wiry-bony. He is easily pushed, as such, and for a moment this catches his breath, widens his half-lidded eyes a bit more. There's a /press/ of mental power that bears down against Eric's mind for an uncomfortable moment, and then withdraws. << Then, >> his mindvoice is not very /conducive/ to this sort of mood, a whipcrack-hard /snap/ of mental power that lashes at Eric's mind painfully -- but his mouth is too occupied for words, finding Eric's to press against it, << let's experiment. >>