thecapitol | [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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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.

[Closed] Take a moment

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