ArchivedLogs:Not the Same as Hugs

Not the Same as Hugs
Dramatis Personae Jax, Shane, Micah	19 February 2015 '
Location <NYC> Harbor Commons - Treehaus - Lower East Side
A spiral of sturdy slatted wooden stairs winds up the trunk of an enormous oak, leading the way up to this treehouse positioned between a pair of trees at one side of the Commons yard, abutting the river. It's clear enough upon ascending that this is no ordinary treehouse, built sturdy-strong and with a polished finish that would rival most /regular/ residences. Spanning the distance between the pair of oaks, the treehouse is a long one-story building, equipped with both plumbing and electricity. The stairs lead up onto a wraparound balcony that projects out at one side to overlook the East River rushing by below. The doorway inside leads to a furnished sitting room, long low futon-couches on the pale wood floors, walls painted in leafy shades of green, exposed-beam ceilings that seem to have worked some of the actual branches of the tree into the curvature of the roof. The front room is bright and airy, large windows looking out on the Commons grounds and the river outside. Recessed lanterns in the wall give the room a warm glow, come nighttimes, and in the center of the room amid a stone-tiled patch of flooring there is a squat glass-encased gas fireplace providing warmth in winter. Off to one side of the room there is an elevated loft up nearer the ceiling, accessible by ladder and furnished with pillows and plush futon mattress and lots of blankets. The adjoining room is decorated in watery river-blues instead of leaf-greens; in here there's a small kitchenette to one side with sink and stove and toaster oven and counter space, cabinets on the walls. A long dining table in this room seats eight; by the windows, plenty of cushioning sits in the wide window-seats. Off in the very back, a tiny half-bathroom holds a sink and toilet. No stove in here; the wintertime tends to find this room much chillier, but there's generally plenty of warm blankets lying around the house. It's been a long night of partying, full of So Much Food and so much dancing, a brightly decorated courtyard and an explosion of (pseudo-)fireworks. As the night grows late, Jax has slipped away from the festivities, disappearing from the Lunar New Year celebration. Not to his house or any of the others; enough searching can find him tucked up into the loft in the Treehaus, laptop in front of him with a Skype call open to Ryan. He looks wan, too-pale, kind of colourless in contrast to the bright decorations outside. "-- Yeah. Suppose that's kinda what we do." He manages a small smile at the end of this, brief and tired. "Stay safe, honey-honey." Hunting stray Fathers is easier with a shark-sense of smell. Shane and B are definitely not getting back to school by curfew tonight but this doesn't bother Shane much. Not judging by the bright grin on his face, anyway -- though it fades into a small worried frown as he climbs the ladder to the loft (one-handed; there's a thermos in his other hand) and frowns up at Jax. /He's/ bright -- red and black brocade vest with faint gold threading over a red dress shirt, black slacks; the tips of his dark hair have been brightened to red and gold as well. "Y'alright? You look like shit." He kicks off his shoes to fall down to the floor at the base of the ladder, climbing up higher to go tuck himself in at Jax's side. "Unless you want to be alone -- but, you were missing cocoa. I brought some. Was that Ryan? Has he been buried in snow yet?" It's kind of a series of huntings. Given the late hour, Micah has been looking for B and/or Shane to get an idea of what they want to do. It takes him rather a lot longer to get up the stairs after the shark-teen. He looks a little tired, a little rumpled, Serenity hoodie over black Toothless and prosthetic designs tee, red henley beneath, patchy jeans with snow boots on for the trip outside. "Shane? I let the school know y'all wasn't gonna make it in on time an' we have y'all here. Just wanted t'know if y'/did/ wanna get back t'night or just drive in with me t'morrow since I got early class or what?" This announcement comes pretty much /as/ he's going through the door, a pause only coming when he sees more than one person in the room. "Ohgosh, apologies if I interrupted a conversation." A shimmer of makeup starts to dust Jax's face when he hears the door opening, but this vanishes back into pallor when he notes it is Shane. "S'a little bit buried." He closes his laptop, setting it aside to take the thermos in one hand and curl his other arm around Shane. "Thanks, sweetie." This comes with a small kiss pressed to Shane's forehead. "Tired, s'all. Winter ain't a time for..." This trails off unfinished, eye skipping to the door and his makeup reappearing /again/ at more footsteps, red and shimmery, a dusting of gold in his hair. This time it stays; he struggles a little more upright, uncapping the thermos as a ghost of smile flits across his face. "You kiddin', love? Did you seriously just ask Shane if he /wanted/ to get back to school tonight?" "Fireworks? /Living/? Cocoa is a poor substitute for hibernation, I know." Shane just tucks in closer to Jax when he sits up, cautious-gentle at least for his father's healing burns. "Yeeeeah," this just comes with a sharp /snort/, "thaaat's gonna be a big 'did you think I just got replaced by a goddamn changeling?'" Micah pulls the door to behind him quickly. "Was more of a plural-you. Wantin' t'know if maybe B needed t'get back t'night, really," he admits with a sheepish grin before adding playfully, "an y'all have psychic twin powers t'be able t'answer for each other, right?" This comes with a little eye-roll at himself. "Though if ze hasn't said anythin' 'bout needin' t'go, /I'd/ just as soon take y'all in the mornin', too." He shifts a little from foot to foot before slipping further into the room where it is warmer. "How /is/ Ryan? Feels like we hardly see 'im." "Living," Jax admits wryly, a small chuckle rising out of him. "But since I can't hibernate I'll /take/ the cocoa. My brain still ain't adjustin' t'my no-coffee-an'-tea caffeine crash. S'too bad your New Year wasn't a couple days early." He dips his head, taking a small sip of chocolate. "Well, bein' a rockstar takes up a lot of time I guess." His nose crinkles up. "/I/ talk t'him all the time but. Ain't quite the same on Skype as havin' hugs." "I petitioned to move it," Shane answers Jax, "but the fucking moon wouldn't listen." His tongue clicks disapprovingly against his teeth. "Conveniently enough," he adds, digging into his pocket for his phone, "We totally do have psychic twin powers." A quick text message later and he adds, "B says 'ffff'. My twin-telepathy parses that as fuckit." His arm slips around Jax at the hug comment. "I keep meaning to ask him for blatantly nepotistic favours and then I feel like a douchebag and never do." "Mmn. Hibernation /does/ sound nice. An' I ain't even got the no-caffeine excuse for it. Just done an' /past/ done with the cold an' the slipperiness." Micah gets much the same idea as Shane at the hug comment but can't really do much about it without a long-slow climb up the ladder, instead shifting in place again as he looks up at the others. "Yeah, I meant more...seein' in person than just seein' on a computer. It ain't quite the same," he agrees. "See, I knew I could count on you." This last comes with a play-wink to Shane at his version of telepathy. "Mornin' it is. That means it's totally okay t'collapse for the night, right?" He leans against the wall. "Anythin' we can do t'help make things a little easier, sugar?" "Maybe the moon'll be more polite next year." Jax's head thuds back against the wall, his eye closing. He takes another small sip of cocoa, light shivering around him weakly. "Yeah. Totally okay to collapse for the night." His teeth scrape at his lip, brow furrowing. "I'm sure Ryan'll be happy to -- be -- nepotistic. At you. If y'want." He lowers the thermos to rest between his legs. "I don't know. Collapsing for the night sounds pretty good about now." "Yeah, but it's that if part I'm not sure of." Shane shakes his head, shifting away from Jax to climb down the ladder. "/You/ fucking old people can go crash, /I/ still have a party going on." He slips his shoes back on -- no coat, though! -- slipping past Micah to head back out into the cold. Micah reaches out to give Shane a little half-hug back-pat as the teen heads out. "Have fun, sugar. We'll stay in bein' borin' so you don't have to. Love you, honey." A fleeting frown answers the shivering light. He does move to the ladder now, slowly and cautiously picking his way further up, really relying on his arms for the harder work of pulling him up. "You want just t'crash here, at least for awhile? S'warm an' quiet an' there's cocoa." Eventually he makes it up to Jax's side for that delayed (gentle!) hug. "Or we can help each other down if y'wanna get back to the house." Jax tips his head in against Micah's side, setting the cocoa aside and snuggling up against his husband. "No. Here's jus' fine. S'all that -- /snow/. 'tween us an' the house. Hafta be out in it for at least probably thirty whole seconds." Which is thirty seconds too long, clearly. Nuzzling in a little closer, Micah sneaks a kiss to the angle of Jax's jaw. “Mmn, sounds good. Put off the cold /and/ gettin' back down that ladder. Plenty of snuggles t'be had right here.” His hands pet through his husband's hair fondly, just soaking in the warmth and closeness. “Love you, sugar.”