thecapitol | [Closed] Take a moment

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[Closed] Take a moment

Who| Jet and Albert
What| Albert is Jet's Christmas present
Where| District 3/Albert's room
When| A few days after Albert dies in the arena
Warnings/Notes| Nothing for now except schmoopy old cyborgs

Jet really didn't remember much about this last death, a first considering all the other ones he'd had. One second he was happily in Felicity and Albert's company and the next, he'd felt a presence followed by a sharp pain and then he was back in the capitol with his less than stellar new cybernetics. They could have at least just given him his body back, but apparently they were serious about giving them these 'upgrades.' It wasn't until he went back to watch the footage that he found out it was Black Tom. It'd be a lie if he said he didn't take some enjoyment out of watching Fee and Al seek at least some vengeance.

He kept himself busy doing his training, practicing whatever skills sounded good and occasionally settling down to actually watch the arena rather than stealing glances or watching the 'highlights' later. Besides, keeping an eye on things told him whose door to wait outside so he could take care of them if they needed it; that was one good thing about dying before your friends.

Thankfully, this time, Albert's death wasn't gut-wrenching to watch, it hurt like it always did, but it had seemed to be nearly as quick as his own which was a blessing in it's own way. Jet stayed in their room until the avoxes ushered him out to return Albert's body, leaving the blond stretched out on the couch in the commons to wait for his husband to wake up, a large green Christmas bow sitting on the table beside him; a leftover decoration from the holidays he'd only sort of enjoyed with no one around to celebrate with.

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It's a little more disorienting than last time. Last time he'd known what was happening when he finally gave up. This time it had been mercifully quick and despite the extra minutes it takes him to recognize his surroundings, he finds he prefers it that way. Bruce probably wouldn't have, but one man's negative is another's positive.

Albert sits up slowly, looking around as he brings his hand to his chin to feel at his smooth face. He always grows stubble in the Arena and is robbed of the satisfaction of shaving once out, but this time he can't even feel it. Metal hands. Right. All minor disappointments, but enough to make his heart sink just a little.

He stands up, clad only in sweats as usual after the Arena, and rummages for a long-sleeved shirt before venturing out into the world. It's too tight, like everything in the god-forsaken wardrobe, but at least it's plain.

He examines his face in the mirror, the same as when he'd left Valhalla save for the cybernetic piece under his left eye. Sunken eyes, gaunt face despite being clean-shaven and with his hair trimmed, something he's certain his stylist team does after every Arena. Got to be presentable, after all.

With a sigh, Albert turns away from the mirror and moves to his bedside table, replacing the silver necklace with the little propeller plane around his neck and steels himself to face the inevitable.

Now he has to find out if Jet is still here.

Jet had ended up dozing off on the couch cushions while he waited for his husband to awaken. It was never an exact science with this, it could be a matter of minutes or it could be hours.

When the door opens, however and the sound of footsteps tinges the air, Jet stirs and rolls into a sitting position so he can glance over at the arrival. Sure enough, his German is there and Jet greets him with a smile.

"There you are. You kept me waiting a little longer this time."

Edited 2014-12-31 07:02 (UTC)

Whatever tension had been in Albert immediately releases upon seeing his husband pop up from the couch the moment he enters the room. He gives a warm smile and goes to sink into the couch beside his partner. "It was more disorienting this time. Probably because I was knocked out."

Albert leans in for a kiss, aiming to rest one on Jet's cheek but fully comfortable if the blond decides to turn his head and make it full on the lips instead. "I'm glad you're here waiting."

Jet does indeed turn his head and make the kiss a little bit more, but it's also a distraction technique to get the bow into place on top of Albert's head. It had a small clip attached to it instead of the usual adhesive residue and that was how he secured it in his husband's silver hair before pulling away from the kiss.

"Of course I am, if I'm the first one out, I'll be waiting right here when you come out of that room, I just expect you to do the same." It was said lightly and he knew Albert would be there when Jet woke up, he always was, but it truly was a big deal to him. As long as he could see Albert standing there waiting for him, Jet would know he hadn't lost anything, no matter how bad the arena before might or might not be.

He gave the bow a small smile and then turned it on Albert instead. "You missed Christmas. But it's okay, a present like this is just as good late as on time."

With the bow of his head, Albert's eyes immediately tilt upwards as if trying to see the new addition to his hair. Considering it's impossible at that angle, he raises his hand to touch the bow instead and chuckles. "A belated Christmas present, I see."

He leaves it there, lowering his hand again to join the other in encircling his husband. He'd wanted a proper Christmas, something with snow, Stollen cake, a massive tree, and nutcrackers along the mantle. It's not even just the Capitol taking all the small joys from him this time, instead it's the course of their lives. Maybe once had they ever been able to spend Christmas with just the two of them, and he'd still been very late. This year, he'd spent it with Sam Wilson and a potato.

"One of these years, I promise we'll have a proper Christmas together."

Edited 2015-01-13 17:08 (UTC)

"Yeah? Okay, I'll hold you to that." He only half meant it. A proper Christmas was definitely something Jet wanted -had wanted for years- but he wasn't going to demand one either. It seemed to be the course of their lives that they be doomed to never have a Christmas together like they wanted. If it didn't actually happen, Jet wasn't going to blame Albert for it.

He pulled his husband in for another kiss, deeper this time, and only pulled away by inches once he did. "How're you feeling?" They were completely refreshed every time they got revived, but that didn't stop the need to ask the question. Besides, if Albert's answer was (understandably) 'hungry' then they'd have to fix that rather than Jet attaching himself to Albert's lips like he wanted to.

Albert kisses back and enjoys it, his lips warm against Jet's mouth, but there's a strange sort of reluctance in it too, something tired, almost drained. He chalks it up to being revived or whatever it is they do here, but the last several times they've come back it was all Albert could do to wait until they were in the privacy of a bedroom before clothes and limbs started flying. Now he simply wanted to sit here, maybe have a snack, and do little else but lean on Jet in quiet.

But that's not what Jet wants, is it? In that kiss is as much fire and passion as his husband always shows so it must be just him, and the last thing he'd ever want is to disappoint the love of his life. So he answers "Fine" and leans in for another kiss, worrying Jet's lower lip with his teeth and waiting for Jet to make the first move towards the bedroom.

Jet gave a bit more chaste kiss and took Albert's hand to lead him to their bedroom. Once they were inside and the door was closed, Jet went right back to kissing his husband while his hands slid gently along the fabric over Albert's back. He wasn't really in any rush.

In fact, he wasn't even really in any rush to do more than touch and kiss like they were. That was strange, wasn't it? This was what they did after nearly every arena now...but this time he just wanted to be close without all of the work and tiredness that came after. It wasn't like he'd lost interest in Albert, there was still fire in his veins just from kissing and touching him, it would be very easy to take him to bed, but it was just as easy to dismiss that fire and let it be.

But was it just him? Was there something wrong with him? What if Albert felt the same way? He seemed softer than usual and with nothing to really explain that, maybe it wasn't just Jet after all. Or maybe he was just thinking too much.

He broke the kiss and just rested their heads together, his hands still roaming lightly until they curled up under Albert's arms and rested on his shoulders.

"Al..." How was he even supposed to ask this? "Do you want me?" Wait, that wasn't what he meant-why was this hard?

"Of course I want you," Albert's eyebrows furrow and he searches Jet's gaze for what could have prompted the question. He finds nothing amiss, no gnawing doubt or terrible hidden emotion Jet seems to be struggling with. Just something quiet, maybe a little tired, close to how he feels. How he always feels after Arenas, like he's made no progress from the day they'd arrived and he's still the gaunt, sleep deprived man who'd been reaped directly into the museum. There's usually a fire there, after they revive. A sense that they could have lost each other permanently and they have to take the opportunities they have immediately to be intimate and passionate and declare to the universe at large this is where their love lies. And even if he's not overwhelmed by that this time, it's still present, just... softly, gently.

Perhaps that's why Jet asks, because he can sense the difference, and it worries him despite Albert not finding that worry on his face.

"I always want you." He brings his hand to the side of Jet's face and kisses him tenderly, a slow press of warm lips and soft movement, an invitation for Jet to continue. Who cares if he's tired, he won't leave Jet unsatisfied.

Jet led them over to the bed, a feeling stirring in him he couldn't fully sort yet. He did know he'd asked that wrong, though, he knew Albert wanted him, the question was did he want to sleep with Jet right now or was this them acting on what they thought the other wanted?

It felt more like that second one with Albert seeming to hold back and Jet himself feeling uncertainty about their actions. Once they were both laid out on the bed, Jet pushed Albert down onto the covers and held himself up over his husband with a hand on either side of Albert's shoulders. Gently, Jet leaned his forehead against Albert's, his eyes intent on his partner's.

"That's not what I mean...I mean...you don't really want to do this right now, right?" What was in his voice wasn't dismissive or condemning, more like a grasping to understand, to find the right words to get to the bottom of whatever was in the air between them. The feeling seemed to step into the light and Jet saw it for what it was: he wasn't tired, but he was weary and the longing and fear of potentially losing Albert like they faced every arena wouldn't be solved by a tumble in the sheets, rough, fast, slow, careful, no pace or emotion behind it would make it enough this time. Jet wasn't grasping for that sign of life, he just wanted to hold it like the sacred thing it was, close and protected. And he was fairly certain Albert was feeling the same.

"I think...neither of us need you plowing me into the mattress or anything like that...maybe just this." Jet leaned down and kissed Albert softly, like it was something precious to be shared, then lowered himself down so Jet lay beside the German and drew his partner in close so his head rested on Jet's shoulder.

"You don't want to either?" He admits it in the question, shifting to find that place in the hollow of Jet's shoulder where he knows he fits, lips still tingling with the soft kiss he'd gladly returned. The tightness that had squeezed his chest at Jet's initial question loosens and Albert breaths easier to know that they're both on the same page, that there's nothing wrong with him in not wanting some voracious roll in the sack that they'll need days to recover from, but instead just a quiet affirmation of each other's presence and a comforting sense of things being, if not how they should be, then at least close enough to it.

Idly, Albert's hand comes up to play with the loose strands of Jet's hair, golden on the burnished silver of his fingers. "We've always just sort of... gone for it after every Arena. I worried there was something wrong that it didn't feel like the thing to do this time."

"No...if there is, then there's something wrong with us both." Jet smiled to the ceiling and let his fingers brush Albert's shoulder as he pulled his husband in close. This was all he wanted, the gentle contact, the undercurrent of love that tied their passion and joint hardship and protectiveness together like the base thread it was, put on display for each other at least for one night. He didn't want to move or do anything, he just wanted to stay in his partner's arms and keep Albert in his own for as long as they possibly could.

"Who knows, maybe our age just finally caught up with us. At least for today."

"Maybe," he sounds an amused rumble against the side of Jet's neck. "It's hard for me to picture you old."

He knows he looks it at times. The grey hair, the crows feet. Of course he's not nearly as old in appearance as he should be. By all rights he should be covered in liver spots and riddled with arthritis, but instead he barely looks out of his 30's. Jet even moreso, perpetually 22 and only showing that age because he'd been rebuilt. It had been difficult to adjust to Jet as the tall blond from the lanky redhead, so to imagine Jet as an old man is virtually impossible for Albert. Especially not when Jet is so often what keeps him feeling young and vital.

"A rain check, then. Something rough and wanton."

He hummed appreciatively at the thought.

"I'll definitely take that rain check. For now...I dunno, let's just stay here until we're hungry and then we can raid the kitchen and just...hang out."

Whether he meant 'hang out' as in cuddle or if he meant it in it's actual sense, even Jet didn't know, but he was definitely open to either option. He just wanted to feel Albert's weight against him and hear the steady sound of his breathing near his ear.

"That sounds wonderful." He nuzzles into Jet's cheek, but that weariness that always overtakes him when he first wakes up after an Arena rears its head and his breathing slows to an even pace even if the thought of food is equally appealing. "I think there is leftover lasagna... in the fridge..."

He's out before Jet can answer, still cuddled into his husband's shoulder.

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[Closed] Take a moment

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