2024-12-30 - Feeling Like Cookies

The light flickers. Jett has pressed the button to apartment suite 305. He's outside waiting with some food; he brought Vietnamese this time in little go boxes all packed away in a paper bag from the restaurant. He's wearing the usual for him, dark clothing, long sleeved shirt with skulls on it, a plaid red and black sweater belted around his waist, some black jeans with holes in the knees, and a leather jacket studded and punked out with patches and junk. He has all his accessories too and a skateboard held up on it's back wheels with a prop of his foot. He didn't text ahead of time so Huck might not be home.

It takes minute, but the door is opened. Inside is Huck, dressed in a pair of khaki cargo pants with tattered knees and a tight A-shirt. The underarms of the shirt have been modified ot allow for his wingflaps. He's barefoot and there's a pencil behind his ear. "Yeah?"

And there's Jett.

"Hey there," he offers with a crooked grin, leaning his shoulder against the door frame. His stupid tail defies his charismatic nonchalance and starts to swing. "Are you lost?"

Jett lofts the bag of food up by his head as the door opens. His free hand raises with his palm facing inward and fingers slightly spread and he signs 'Hey' to Huck as the door opens. Then he points to the paper bag of food, "You hungry?"

"Yes. I'm in the wrong apartment. Again," since his apartment is on the third floor of the other building. Jett's gaze sweeps down Huck's current state of being and then when his gaze comes back up he asks, "I'm not interrupting am I?" He points to the pencil behind Huck's ear.

"What? No!" Huck shakes his head and smiles widely, "Never. Um... come in!" He steps out of the way, gesturing for him to do just that. He sniffs, "Is that Asian food?" he asks with a sly grin. On the couch is a sketch book that has a drawing being worked on. It's this weird stone door with rock chains holding it closed.

"Can I get you something?" he offers once he closes the door. "What brings you here? I mean, surely not just food?"

Jett pops his skateboard to catch it in his free hand and makes sure to leave it by the door on the inside. It's rude to bring in his wheels any further than that. He hip checks the door closed and meanders in behind Huck. He nods to confirm that it was 'Asian' food with which he rolls his eyes slightly, "It's good." And he's not just saying that because of his own ethnicity either! He drops the bag off some where safe, away from the sketch book which he does glance over at in passing. He all but trips over nothing when he sees what's on the page, a stumble, that he recovers from with a whirl of an arm. FOOD is still safe!

He exhales and puts the food on the counter and starts to pull things out. Little boxes of food and some chopsticks are gathered out. "If you got drinks? I didn't get those," he says with a sheepish look, "Um. You?" He smirks at Huck, "What else? I wanted to see how you were and hang out."

"Careful," Huck says when Jett stumbles. Seeing what he's looking at, he waves it off. "Ignore that. It's this weird stone door thing that apparently just showed up the other night by the ice sculptures. I don't know if it's part of the magic stuff or if somebody did it as a prank, but it was neat so I drew it."

He opens the fridge, "So, I have Coke Zero and... Coke Zero. Or..." He lifts a can to display, "There's also Coke Zero?"

Jett lifts his brows and makes a face that shows he agrees it's weird, exaggerating it, "Yeah... Weird. Who would even do that? Some psycho. How are you supposed to get into the door if it's stone?" He passes Huck one of the bento boxes, "I didn't know what you liked. But these are the best items on the menu." He passes the chopsticks not knowing if Huck can do them or not; a true test!

"I think, I'll.... go with a Coke Zero," he delays with good humor as if he had to think about it. He takes his own bento box and goes to sit where it's safe to eat? The couch of course, making himself at home and plopping down in it with his legs folding. His gaze looks down at the sketch book further though, before he asks, "Where you in a dream?"

"Do you need me to hit you back for mine," offers Huck, meaning to reimburse him. He laughs a little, smiling again, "You don't have to keep feeding me. I mean, I LIKE it, but, really, I'm okay."

"Excellent choice, sir," he responds as he carries the two cans back to the couch and sits on the floor in front of it, tail curling up around his thigh as he smiles up at Jett with endearing eyes. "It's SUPER weird. But it's carved on site, not moved there. It's a lot of work for one night, so for sure magical." He looks at his drawing and shrugs, "It's mysterious. I like it."

He sits the box in his lap and opens it up. The question brings him pause, then a nod. "Yeah. It felt like the other one I was in." He sighs, "I've been really debating if I should feel guilty about murdering those things."

"Nah, I got you," Jett says with a flag of his hand toward the reimbursement, "You'll get us the next time." He doesn't seem too concerned about the money presently.

Jett crooks one eyebrow up at the endearing eyes that he's getting while he reaches for the coke zero and cracks it open, twisting until he takes off the pop can tab to shove it into his pocket. "Carved on site?" He thinks about that and makes a 'how is that possible scrunchy' face, totally playing it up, hamming it out, "Yeah that would be. Must've taken a lot of time." Totally not why he missed all those ferries. Nope. He looks down at the door then back to Huck, "What do you think it means?"

He pops open his bento box and unwraps his chopsticks.

"I was in a dream too," he confirms, "You were in it. So was Theo, Esme, and Ari..." he waves his hand, "And more people I didn't recognize. Um," he thinks, "What do you think that blue light was about at the end? You know? Did we blow something up in a different universe or something?"

Huck just shrugs when asked what it means, "I don't know. Just one more weird thing here, right?" He reaches out and closes the sketchbook because his art sucks and no one should have to see it.

"It was a shared dream," Huck confirms. "We all remember it. I don't know. My question is, did we do a good thing or a bad thing? I mean, the monsters we fought off weren't nice guys, so I think we did good?" He takes out the chopsticks in his own box. Fidget. Drop. He picks them up again. He tries to use them again, but his long fingers and the claws are not going to allow it. He doesn't say anything, though, instead just trying again. And again. His tongue sticks out the corner of his mouth in concentration. He can do this!

Nope. He can't. They pop out of his hand again.

One more weird thing here. Jett nods as he watches the sketchbook close. He says nothing more on the issue.

Shared dream. "Shit," Jett considers this, "I guess I should've paid attention more to when you all were talking about them before." Then he speculates, "Yeah but do we know if they weren't nice guys? I mean, they could have been defending something from us the... interlopers? I mean, it's not like we belonged in that dream right? So we were the ones that sort of just pop, showed up."

And then when he sees that Huck is struggling with the chopsticks, he up nods for Huck to scoot back a bit, "Here.." And then Jett slides down off the couch to sit knee to knee with Huck, using his own chop sticks to dig into the bento box and offers it up to Huck. A fork would be easier right? Surprise, there's forks in the paper bag, the wood ones, but right now Jett is having a moment.

"I don't know," Huck confirms about the dream. "I don't generally think of dudes with red eyes as friendly? I can tell you, for sure, the first time it happened to me we were fighting zombie monsters and they were for sure bad guys." He shrugs, "I also can't help but think the island or at least the source of our magic is sentient."

He looks up at Jett and his brow furrows, though he laughs, "I got it!" His laughing though clearly indicates he does not. He moves a little for Jett to slide down, "I used to be really good with chopsticks," he notes, defensively. He watches Jett closely once they're knee to knee, and he smiles fully. When the food is offered, his tail swishes on the floor a little. "Really?" he says, about being fed, but he rolls his eyes and relents, letting Jett stick that food in his mouth. He chews it up, kind of laughing as he does.

"You have a point," Jett says with a little laugh to the dudes with red eyes, "but what if we stereotyped the guys with red eyes to being evil?" Then he tilts his head, "What happened in the first dream you had?" He absolutely didn't listen to the details last time he was too busy with whatever it was they were doing when it was brought up. The idea that the source of their magic is sentient has Jett wondering, "If it is, does that mean it gifted us our magic based on who we were?"

"You didn't have claws before," Jett quietly reminds him and takes the opportunity. The little defensiveness about being fed is met with a sassy sort of smirk, and a deadpan, "Really." Once he feeds Huck he watches and laughs too, shaking his head, "I can get you a fork." He's not actually leaving to get him a fork just yet, because he's leaning in with another chopstick offering, impishly watching Huck.

Finishing chewing, Huck shares, "The first time it was a group of us on a boat. It was foggy. And then all these zombies of drowned people climbed aboard and started attacking us." As for sentience, "I don't know. The idea that it brought the right people to fix the glow ball, and the right people to keep you all safe, just doesn't feel like a random magic event. It feels premeditated." He shrugs about the magic being based on themselves, "I kind of hope not? I don't love what that says about ME."

He nods. "I didn't have YOU before," he counters. He laughs again when the next bite is offered, "Okay, this feels like a mixed bag here. I don't love having to be fed like a baby, but, I kinda like you serving me." He snaps up the bite off Jett's chopstick, chewing it up between chuckles. "I didn't get to say it, but thank you for coming by yesterday."

"Yeah that sounds like it was a pretty easy tell you were the good guys in that scenario of zombies," Jett agrees about the dream. He looks up as he thinks over the recent dream, nodding a little, "Or it was lucky we had the right people in the right places." He shrugs up his shoulders and then notes with a hand grabbing Huck's, "I think it'd say you're not afraid to show your strength."

Jett smirks against the counter and doesn't have anything to rebuttal back with, because he was after all holding up another bite of food for Huck. He laughs at the mixed bag thing here and he leans forward, as Huck chews, offering a quick peck onto Huck's lips which were full in motion of eating so there's really no chance to kiss back, "That might fix it?"

Then he pops up onto his knees and then press up, stalling so Huck can see him mouth, "I'm going to get you a fork." And at the gratitude for the other day, he nods, "You're welcome."

"That's a surprisingly positive way to spin it," Huck responds about the magic, and he smiles. "Thanks."

Huck's chewing pauses at the unexpected little kiss. His brow lifts a little, along with the corner of his mouth. He starts chewing again, and nods. "It might, yeah," he says with a wide smile, fully smitten. He nods again about the fork, and turns his head to watch Jett go to the little kitchen area for a fork, never taking his eyes off the man.

"How long have you skateboarded?" he asks curiously.

"I can be positive once and a while," Jett notes with a cheeky little grin as if he knows he's often got a little rain cloud following him around.

Jett winks at Huck as his brows lift and then he meanders to the kitchen to retrieve a fork. He'll have to go rummaging through a few drawers before he finds the one with the cutlery, coming up with two forks. He wanders back to where they were eating and offers one down to Huck before folding his legs back underneath him.

"Not long enough to do anything fancy, but enough to get by. A year. I couldn't afford a board back on the mainland," he digs into his own food with a fork too. Chopsticks are set aside for now.

Huck chuckles, "You can," he agrees. "Once in a while."

He notices that Jett chooses to use a fork to. It's a little thing, but it's a gesture Huck recognizes. He doesn't point it out, but it gives him a little grin when he sees it. Huck takes the fork and watches Jett sit back down in front of him, and then he takes a big forkful of food into his mouth. He chews it up as he listens to Jett talk about skating. "I went snowboarding once, but I don't think that's quite the same thing. I've done roller blades, too, you know - it's a bit like skating. Never got on a skateboard though. I think I was always afraid I'd end up falling and snapping an ankle or something." He shrugs, "Do you like it? Or is it really more about getting around quickly? I always thought skateboarders were hot. They're like soccer players - they always have the most amazing hair."

Jett spends a few moments eating after he answers about the skateboarding, allowing to listen to Huck around the food. He shakes his head at snowboarding, interjecting, "Never tried it." And as for roller blades he shares, "Or that." He swirls the fork around and eats a bit more, looking down at his bento box and choosing the best items to eat first so they don't get cold. "As if you couldn't snap an ankle playing hockey," he retorts with amusement to Huck. "Yeah, I like it," he states with a glance back toward the door, then turns to Huck, "It definitely gets me around the park faster." He laughs at the last comment, "Well do I fit? Am I hot? Do I have amazing hair?"

"It's fine," Huck notes about snowboarding. Then about roller blading, "It's like ice skating but with less speed and way more dorkiness."

"Well, sure," agrees Huck about breaking the ankle. "But that's where I would have WANTED to break it. Doing a thing I love." He laughs a little, "If I had had to sit out a season of hockey because I broke an ankle roller blading?" He rolls his eyes dramatically, "That would be the WORST."

Is he hot? Huck studies him for a long moment, and then slowly sits the bento box on the floor, wiping his hands off on his pants. He chews on his bottom lip, the fang on his left side showing as he thinks. "You already know what I think," he says a bit more seriously.

"I'd probably want to try it," Jett says over the snowboarding, "It looks rad. It also looks expensive as hell." He does laugh about the dorkiness of roller blading, "Then I'll stay away from that. My ego would never forgive me."

Jett muses over the difference between breaking an ankle playing hockey versus breaking it roller blading, "I get the sense that you'd be treated like a hero with the hockey injury?" He does know of Huck's passion for the sport so he asks, "What'd you win all those trophies for?"

Jett continues to eat even as Huck puts his bento box aside and wipes his hands off, watching him with a deadpan expression to the answer he gets. "That wasn't an answer," he absently notes with a flick of his fork in the air, "And last time I checked I couldn't read minds..." he gives an impish grin, pretending dumb!

"It is," expensive, he means. "I rented stuff when I went." He laughs in agreement about roller blading and his ego not forgiving him. "Neither would I."

"Maybe? If it was the right play?" explains Huck. "Trophies?" And then he remembers the Polaroid he found. Right. Jett explored. "Oh, just, high school teams and youth leagues. I was good, but I wasn't going to play for the NHL or anything like that. It's like any sport. You can be the best player in the league when you're a kid, but that still doesn't mean you're going to play professionally." He shrugs, glancing away for just a second, before looking back at Jett. "Only been one Deaf guy ever in the NHL."

He watches Jett play dumb. Still a little serious, he nods a few times, "Okay." He inhales, "I think your hair is perfectly imperfect. It hides you, but it's also a reflection of the curtain you wrap yourself up behind. I see a handsome, talented young man that was dealt a shitty hand but is so fucking brave and strong that he's still around. Whatever it takes." His brow furrows just a tiny bit, a little more honesty in his voice. His tail gives a little jerk as well. "When I see you, all I can think about is how to get your attention. To get you to see me. Which makes me wish I wasn't a piece of shit."

"If I ever get out of this place," like it was Hotel California or something, "Maybe I'll try it." Then he snorts at how Huck would never forgive him for the roller blading.

Jett eats further around Huck's explanation of the hockey trophies - yes Jett explored - and seems to take it all in about their importance. They've talked about Hockey a bit before so he's not unaware that there was only one deaf player in the NHL and how Huck feels about it, still he nods, "They looked important to you, so I thought I'd ask. You were awesome to get them."

Jett looks back and forth like there were other people in the room to save him from the sudden inhale upon the seriousness. Then his eyes turn to Huck with a gulp to clear his mouth of food as Huck spills his thoughts about Jett onto their proverbial table. It's a lot. Hearing about yourself from someone else's point of view is always a lot to take in. He rubs one of his earrings and twists it about. He doesn't seem to take compliments about his person very well, turning awkward and avoidant, unsure of what to say to all that. He's lucky then that Huck goes on about getting his attention, to which he answers openly, "I did see you." He reaches out to put a hand on Huck's knee, "Stop. You aren't a piece of shit." He sits back and considers Huck with a soft expression, "I like hanging with you. I feel..." he chooses a word here which can best describe it, "comfortable. It's nice and warm. Like, having a fresh baked cookie."

"You did," Huck agrees. "You did see me. I know. And I loved it." He grins a little, "Enough that I want you to see me again. Every time I see you, I feel like a fucking kid trying to get your attention. I know, it's stupid..." He sighs, looking at the hand on his knee. Slowly, his own hand makes its way toward Jett's and then, if allowed, lays on top of it. "Look, I've went on dates with a few guys, but I've never actually dated anyone. I was the weird kid who spoke with his hands. When I was in high school, I got my bully to stop beating me up by giving him blow jobs under the soccer field bleachers. Eventually I figured out I could just beat them up first, but, before that, I learned to do whatever it took to get others to like me." He looks at their hands. "Sometimes that's hard for me to stop because... I also like feeling good." Then he sighs, 'It's what happened with Theo. I just didn't realize doin' the crap I always do was going to fuck up being liked by the one guy I actually REALLY wanted to like me. The one I really liked." His eyes lift to Jett's. "I'm sorry I'm a piece of shit."

He sort of laughs at the compliment, "I'm like a cookie?" It's silly, but he also knows it's not meant badly. "Yum?"

Jett puts his own bento box aside, after sneaking one more bite because the boy is hungry and he'll never not be hungry, settling in to listen to Huck's responses, chewing, a little bit, trying to slow it down so it doesn't crunch while Huck gets serious with him. He doesn't pull away from the hand on his, he just sort of swallows hard to try to get the food down while Huck confesses to him about the bully. The admission of that story has Jett's face sort of growing sad but not in a pitying way but like he knew, he understood what that was like. He turns his hand underneath Huck's so he can hold his hand through those expressions of doing whatever it took. He doesn't say anything, not willing to interrupt Huck while he has this moment, even if his roommate is brought into the picture.

Then he sighs after it's all said, looking down at their hands, but his mouth is still available to be watched, "You're not alone in having done things... to be accepted." He looks up to Huck then, "It wasn't my choice at first but then I learned it could get .. me attention. Any attention. I'm an orphan, I didn't have anyone consistent in my life. People wanting to do things with me, well, for those few minutes or hours, I felt like someone saw me, that someone knew I existed." He sits back with his breath coming out of his lungs, "Then I started seeking it just to cope." He shrugs, "I get it. We are who we are." He closes his eyes, inhales, then exhales, "Hell, I went and partied with some older guys after ... finding out. So that makes me a piece of shit too." A pause, "I guess," he thinks about it, "I wanted something different than the usual." He tilts his head at Huck, "I never saw you like some hook up. I didn't want that... I mean, I do, but, just not ... the first thing you know?"

He cracks a smile at the last, "Yeah. Like a cookie." He leans forward with that intention to kiss Huck, but, this time he waits to see if Huck wants to kiss him bang, hanging at that right distance that Huck has to make the effort in return.

Huck's face grows sad when Jett shares his similar tale. When Jett says he's also a piece of shit, Huck smirks, "We're gonna need boots with all this shit everywhere..."

"I don't know how to not be a whore, J-Bird," Huck admits with a little chuckle because it is kind of a ridiculous statement and he hears it. "It's who I am, even when I don't want it to be. You make me not want it to. It's the butterflies, maybe?"

When Jett repeats he's like a cookie, his tail thwumps on the ground behind him a few times, happily. And then Jett's leaning forward. For a kiss! Huck blinks, forcing himself to try to stay cool. Oh shit, it's happening! Stay cool. He swallows, and he quickly licks his lips.

"Brave. Strong. And somehow, you're still around." Then he closes his eyes, and closes the distance. His kiss is soft and kind, filled with tenderness but lingering, rolling into another kiss. His tail begins making noise behind him again and it seems like Huck stops breathing as his lips gently move over Jett's. The hand he doesn't have holding Jett's lifts to cup the side of Jett's face as the kiss ends and they linger nose to nose.

"Heh..." He bites his lip, looking for approval in the eyes of the other man.

Jett quietly regards Huck's own response to his tale and nods to the comic relief.

"You know... I don't think it's like that Huck," Jett says against the whore sentiment, "I really don't. We're missing pieces and sometimes different people fill in the gaps. Theo told me about this thing called poly...am-polyamorous... I think," he squints as if he said it wrong, "but like I guess people can be with more than one person? And it's okay. I mean, I've been with lots of people, separately, and I don't know that I could ... label anything or anyone. But I want to protect you and hang out with you... whatever that means." He nods at the butterflies, "I like being around you and I don't want you to change if that makes you unhappy."

Then the lean. The indicative lean that means an impending and looming kiss.

Jett is aware of the fangs so he's keeping the kiss to something soft and outwardly tender, a melding of lip to lip that rolls with each movement. They're both experienced so the kiss is mutually given and received, yet it seems somehow like a first kiss, careful, cautious, explorative. When it comes to a natural break Jett's eyes flicker open and he smiles, deciding to kiss his nose in a boop-kiss before sitting back.

He grabs back his bento box and smiles, contentedly, noting, "Like a fresh baked cookie." His eyes seem to be bright and holding in some giddiness as he makes to eat another bite.

"Polyamory is dating more than one person," Huck corrects gently, and then rolls his eyes, "Theo." He sighs. "Theo couldn't handle polyamory. He's filled with too much jealousy and anxiety. I mean, he promised me he was backing out of the way so you and I could figure things out, and now he's pitching a threesome? Honestly, I don't know that I'm mature enough for it."

He scrunches his forehead trying to figure out what he wants to say about their mutual promiscuity problem. "...I promise anything that happens with anyone else is just a fuck for good times. Nothing more. And if one day, you and I decide we're dating or boyfriends or something with an actual label... We just agree to always come home?"

And then the kiss. Huck's tail is wild with the happies, and he smiles widely back at Jett, accidentally muttering a breathy, "...wow." He laughs, glancing away almost bashfully at the boop-kiss. And then Jett's eating again. He smiles widely, and just nods, approvingly accepting that the other man is just always gonna be hungry and that's okay.

"You're really pretty awesome, J-Bird."

Jett tilts his head at the correction, "Well isn't... that... I mean," he sighs out loud, "labels are too fucking complicated for me. I don't like them." He frowns a little as Huck seems to get annoyed with Theo having brought it up, and then nods, "Hmm...He's never... fucked around really." As if that would explain it, "He likes me, and I think he likes you and Esme too, but differently." He smirks a little, "He just hasn't had the chance to figure it out what he wants, like we have." But he shakes his head, "No. I don't want a threesome. I want to get to know you, and who you are, without someone else there. But, would you be upset if I was.... going to spend time with other people?"

The nature that everyone else was just a fuck for Huck has Jett looking a little worried, "So if I had feelings for other people, it will be different?" He nods a little at what the proposal is, and gives an uncertain, "Yeah. I just don't want to fuck us up, Huck. Your my home bake cookie and those are the best fucking cookies in the world. I don't want fuck it up."

Jett seems to wear a smug smirk on his lips for the little 'wow' that's made after the kiss.

"Thanks Huck," he leans back and regards Huck quietly, "You are too."

"Look, I like Theo," Huck admits, "But... I don't have feelings for him. We messed around, and he's my friend, but..." He shrugs, a little nervous about all this. "There's not more there for me, if that makes sense?" He's trying to say Theo's not someone he'd date, but that's hard to do when you're avoiding labels.

He returns Jett's smirk, "You do realize the irony of you asking me to be open about you being with other people when me playing with Theo was almost a deal breaker, right?" He laughs, it's more funny to him than an actual issue. "Look, you haven't even let me take you on a second date yet. This is all probably way beyond where we're at with you and me, eh." He thinks for just a moment, and then offers, "I won't be upset if you don't get upset with me? And if we're honest with each other about it?" He slowly smiles fully, "And if you let me say we're dating if we get to date number...." He looks up, thinking, and then laughs as he says, "...five."

Jett munches away almost absent mindedly on the food that he brought over, while Huck explains this delicate situation to Jett. Jett squints, "So when I say I like someone, I generally have some feelings for them otherwise I wouldn't like them..." This is probably where it's going to get complicated but at least Jett wants to explain his own perspective. Though he does nod at what Huck ultimately says about Theo, "Yeah, that makes sense. You wouldn't see him as someone to date, just someone to have sex with." There, labels added. Hopefully the paraphrase is on point.

Then Jett tilts his head at the irony as it's pointed out to him, "Well that's because Theo and I are like best friends and you don't do that to your best pal." He grumbles, "Not that I can claim to be the best friend here but I was going to respect who he wanted to be with. I would not want to be dating the same person as Theo is dating, if that makes sense?" Then when Huck starts to correct their own trajectory , which is to say to get them pointed toward a second date, he pauses even his chewing to listen to what's happening here. At the offer Jett nods, "I won't get upset as long as we're honest." He agrees to those terms, but then the last is met with a widening stare, "Is that enough dates to be dating?" Labels would be the death of him. "But yeah that seems okay," he is unsure as he notes, "Usually I just fuck around. I don't really do this dating stuff."

Huck doesn't mind that Jett's eating again. He nods when Jett tries to make sense of whatever it is Huck's trying to say. When Jett says he was going to respect Theo, and not date who he was dating to avoid dating the same person, Huck leans his shoulder against the couch and gets an almost bashful, tight lipped grin. He doesn't say anything, however, afraid to ruin the revelation Jett may not realize he's saying.

"Relax," he says with a chuckle, and clearly jokes, "I won't call you my boyfriend until like... seven? Maybe eight? I think at nine we're married though, right? That's the law or something, eh." His tail swishes and he laughs.

"I don't do it either," he admits about dating. With a little shrug, he leans his elbow on the couch and rests the side of his head in that hand, sighing as he watches Jett closely, eyes filled with childlike adoration. "If I were ever gonna, though? I feel like I'd choose you." He grins, "I just want to be with you. I want to get to know everything about you more than I want to get naked with you – not that I don't want that. But... that has to be a sign of something." He breathes in and out, "I'm almost scared."

Jett's brows raise up at that bashful look and he's completely clueless, mouthing a "what" with a silly smirk on his face between bites as if Huck would tell him what was on his mind.

"Boyfriend at seven," Jett mutters with some sort of consideration for that, before he sputters a little at the marriage by nine, taking a moment with his fork in the air to swallow what he had in his mouth before he considers Huck with a sarcastic tone, "You got all this mapped out already, huh? I think you skipped the moving in together part. I've watched enough Netflix to know there's always a moving in part."

That they're on the same page about never having wanted to date is something of a moment for Jett to realize they've got some things in common, for sure. He leans back on the couch with his head turned toward Huck, unable to look away at that childlike adoration and feeling himself growing a little self conscious underneath the scrutiny. He kind of goes shy and roots his fork around in the bento box before he asks, without looking back up, but his mouth is still visible for Huck, "What do you want to know?" He looks back up and nods too, "Yeah. I didn't think about us that way really. I liked hanging out with you because I feel... cozy? Comfortable?.. around you," which is apparently a big compliment from Jett, "so it's a sign of something." The admission to the last part has him lean his head back on the couch cushion too, food in his lap, regarding Huck in that quiet moment.

He reaches out with a hand and grazes Huck's jawline with the back of his knuckles.

Then he turns back to finish up his bento box. He's nearly done. Boy has an appetite!

"I guess that's true," Huck laughs about moving in together. "How about we just play it by ear and see how things go?" he suggests playfully.

Huck lets out a soft little, "Mmm," sound when Jett agrees it's a sign of something, smiling. When Jett touches his chin, he closes his eyes for the moment, the smile a little bigger as he's touched. Once it's over, he opens his eyes once more and answers what he wants to know in a soft tone, "Everything." That's silly, of course, so he answers again in a more normal tone. "Tell me about the first piece of art you ever made and what it meant to you?"

"Yeah that works," Jett says easily enough, "And if this is all we are, I'd be okay with that too." Again because it's comfortable.

Jett admires the response from Huck for the touch, knowing he could keep on going if he wanted to and knowing the consequences of that he strays to the food to be better at that. Physical touch is kind of his thing though so while the hand might have gone back to work on the bento box, his leg shifts out so it bumps up against Huck's. The 'everything' has him shaking his head, "I don't know where to start..." he murmurs as he contemplates what would be 'everything' that someone would want to hear.

Huck helps him out though and throws him a bone! Jett ahhs softly, "Good question..." he thinks about it, "it's good because there's ... all the sketches and the playdough creations... and they're probably art pieces..." He looks up as if to grab his memory from up there before he nods with it in hand, "Okay I got it. I was probably like ten or so? I was definitely on my like fifth foster home placing by then. I was pretty despondent; I shut down." He admits, "One of the care takers there gave me some clay and sat with me. She started showing me how to make things. I didn't say a damn word then, I know because it was quiet. Comfortable." He exhales, "She tried to encourage me to make an animal or something, far as I can recall, but I kept looking at her. She kept smiling and never pressured me at all. I picked up the clay and started to play with it. She helped me figure out how to roll it up into a ball and how to roll out a coil. It was fun. But the sculpture? Not my best work." He grins, looking over, "It was more like a snowman, and it had some stringy hair like hers, and I remember putting an extra string for the mouth, because she was smiling." The fondness of that small moment lasts on his expression, "I don't know what happened to the clay figure; I was moved again shortly after. I'd like to think it's with her."

Huck glances down to where Jett's leg has moved, and though he says nothing, he's clearly pleased by the touch. He listens carefully about the artwork, nodding as Jett shares. "Five," he repeats about the foster homes, shaking his head a little forlorn, "Sheesh." Huck returns the smile about it not being his best work. "Then that's where it is," he confirms, as if saying it's with her makes it so.

"Were you an orphan right out of the hospital, or was your mom or dad ever around at all at the beginning?" he asks, a careful tone, knowing that's not the easiest question to field when you've been through what Jett has. "I don't know what the government is allowed to tell you in the U.S. about your parents. Or even if you'd want to know..."

"Yeah, I got moved around a lot and sometimes to facilities rather than like homes, you know? Group homes or community centers. A few of them were run by Churches." He exhales here, then he goes on, "There's a lot of kids in the system and not enough places to put them all. And I wasn't necessarily the easiest one to deal with." He does recognize his own stay within the system and will share that if Huck wants to hear it.

"I'd say I was an orphan right out of the dumpster," he side glances at Huck, "I don't know who they were. My last name is the place of the town they found me abandoned at. I think the cops tried to locate her... but no one of my..." he sweeps his hand over his face, "ethnicity was discovered to have given birth or reported being pregnant recently in Onaway. The place has like barely a thousand people in it." He shrugs, "The news clippings I found of it suggested it was someone who probably drove through." It's not an easy question to answer and it clearly shows in his expression that he still has issues with that abandonment, "And I wasn't a white kid, so," he sardonically looks at Huck, "I didn't get adopted." And then he shakes his head at the last, admitting, "If only to find out why..."

One thing that makes Huck angry in the world is when people say they are sorry he lost his hearing. It's pity instead of acknowledgement, and he can't abide that. He answers Jett in a way that reflects at least a small amount of understanding that feeling, "That sounds difficult, J-Bird. But those experiences, the good and the bad, make us the men we are." He gives him a warm grin that offers a hint of white fangs beneath caring brown eyes. "And I like who you are. Very much so."

He nods about wondering why, but there's nothing to be said for that. "Jett Onaway," he then repeats, as it's the first time he's heard his last name. "It's like letting me know an airplane is coming." He chuckles, "Who picked naming you Jett, then?"

Jett is grateful that there's not a pity behind Huck's response and instead a more understanding response. "I don't know any different," he admits to Huck, "I know what I see on social media, movies, and TV shows. I know also what I hear from other people, but really I don't understand what I missed out on, other than I never had a constant figure in my life, one adult that I could turn too..." He opens up a bit more, "I get angry... especially around Christmas or birthdays..." he definitely got angry the other day, "Because what my experience is does not equate to the world and people's faces just go blank or show pity... they don't even try to understand." His fingers curl a little with anger around the bento box making, "I eventually got so pissed off about the world I dropped out of school and took off..." he purses his lips out. Then he turns to Huck again, nodding at the confirmation that Huck likes him, "You should wait to make that assessment until after the fifth date." He scoffs at himself and takes a minute to recalibrate because that was heavy.

"It's Jericho actually," Jett says after a smirk for the airplane remark, "The cop that found me got to name me, I guess. He tried to check in for the first little while, but, he had a stroke and then I never saw him again." He smiles at Huck, "I picked the name Jett."

"I get mad sometimes during Christmas," Huck admits, similarly, eyes firmly on Jett's. "It's not exactly the same, but Christmas music is something huge I can't be a part of, and it's kind of everywhere that time of year. The number of time's I've had Happy Birthday sung to me by a group of kids at a classroom party in school would astound you. And probably piss you off, too. It does me."

"I hate when people say that I have hearing loss," he shares, a bit of spite in his voice he can't hide. "Like I lost my hearing and now there's this empty void in my skull where it used to be. That immediately labels me as not normal. Who the fuck is society to tell a little kid he's not normal? Does that mean I'm not worth as much as someone with hearing? Life is hard enough, eh."

"There was this guy, Aaron Williamson," he begins. Here comes his rant! "About fifteen years ago, he started this idea that we didn't lose our hearing, we gained our Deafness. People who are Deaf are better at video games because they have increased hand-eye coordination. We have more developed spatial awareness skills. We're more observant. We adapt better, are more detail oriented, and we think differently, particularly in creative and communicative ways. Being Deaf isn't a handicap, it's a culture, and it's awesome!" He smirks a little, "I have Deaf Gain."

"You're the same," adds Huck. "There was stuff you didn't have, and that's a little shitty, sure. But I wouldn't change a thing about what it made you." He smiles fully then, all dimples and pearly white fangs. "Jett's a pretty good one. I hate my name, so I kind of envy that you got to pick your own."

Jett puts his closest arm to Huck up on the couch cushions so that his hand could idly touch out at Huck, maybe graze cross shoulder, or if Huck was still leaning there, tease a bit of his hair, or touch his ears lightly. Touching! Jett has to touch, especially during some of this harder conversation, as if touch could comfort Huck as it comforted him. He is with Huck in that moment, enduring the pain with the other man, the struggles each of them had to face in their own separate ways.

Jett wonders, "Is it okay to say hearing impaired or do you like... deaf?" He looks uncertain about that because he has used hearing impaired once or twice, "You corrected me once but I wasn't sure if it was a correction or a preference." As for labeling him as not normal Jett nods, "I kind of hate labels for that. Soon as they hear I'm an orphan or whatever, same thing." He taps Huck at the chin to catch his attention, "You are worth as much if not more than everyone else. You have overcome and are thriving."

He does take in about this guy named Aaron Williamson, news to Jett since he just got a phone and never particularly had to deal with this subject before. Jett wears a smile for the rant and the confidence it seems to bolster in Huck by the smirk seen, "I like that. And not because you mentioned it but kind of because you did, do you play video games?" He didn't snoop in the main living room as much as he did in the bedroom, looking around now curiously, before drifting his gaze back. "You can probably see more than anyone..." and he wonders a bit, "Do you think magic could help you, regain some hearing?" He wonders as his fingers sift through Huck's hair, "Would you want to? Hear again? Your Deaf Gain is like a super power." He smiles, gently.

Jett shows a slight disapproval when Huck tells him it was a little shitty but he doesn't argue about it, since the reason for that is a moment later. "Why do you hate it? Get tired of people asking you to 'be their Huckleberry?'" He winks a little as if he knows where that expression is from, shrugging, "I mean there was no one to stop me. Jericho is still my legal name, I just prefer to be called Jett.... and someday I'll get out of here on a jet plane!" A corny reference but he laughs all the same, up nodding to Huck's bento box, "Are you finished? I can go put the rest in the fridge."

The touching is clearly welcomed, as Huck even leans just a little into it. At one point, as Jett plays with his hair, he turns his head and gently kisses Jett's wrist. "I prefer Deaf. To me, hearing impaired would be someone who has some hearing, only it's impaired. I don't know that that's technically correct, but that's how I feel about it."

"And so are you," he answers Jett about overcoming and thriving.

"I haven't in a while, but I played a lot of video games when I was younger," admits Huck. "My Playstation is back at my mom's, I didn't bring it with. Sorry." As for hearing again, "That's a tough one. Because if magic gave it back, then when I leave it will take it away again. I think that's why Danny's telepathy fucked me up so much. I mean, that, and it hurt at first." He furrows his brow a little, "I'm going to talk to him about it, though. I think I'd be wrong to not experience it a bit while I can, though? I'd like to hear your voice. Oh! Maybe you could sing me your favorite Crosses song!"

Be your Huckleberry. Yup. "That's certainly not great, for sure," he notes. "My mom's a literary professor. My last name is Sawyer, like Tom? And so she thought it was clever to name me Huckleberry." He rolls his eyes about his mom's cleverness. "Old people."

"Yeah," he's finished. "Jericho," he repeats again, crinkling his nose a little as he says it. "You're more of a Jett."

Jett's eyes lower a bit at the kiss to his wrist; the sensation a warm pocket of touch that he doesn't pull away from. "Good to know," Jett responds to Huck, "It was important to me to know the difference as it means for you. Thank you."

Jett bumps up his brows as he tilts his head sideways, as if he wasn't so confident about that. He doesn't voice anything though to contest it.

"Damn," Jett laughs to the mention that the playstation was back at Huck's mom's place, "That's okay. We can do other things! Like... uhm," he shrugs, "cards?" He wonders if Huck plays cards as that's safe to ask. Jett's fingers play a little further with Huck's hair and ear, "Okay but be careful." As if Huck can't protect himself there, "I don't want to find you like you were the other night, again, okay?" The next part surprises him, "Wait? You think you could hear my voice?" He nods with some excitableness about him, "Yeah I would. I'd sing you 'Light as a Feather' .. it's by far my fav."

Jett apologies around a smile, "Sorry. I couldn't resist." As for Huck's mother being a professor, he squints, "I think that book was part of class but I can't remember. I sucked at school." Then he barks out a laugh, "She was applying her passion to her new one." As if he can speak for Huck's mom but he has an insightful mind and an emotional soul.

He squeezes Huck on the shoulder before pushing up to grab their meal. His was empty but he does round up Huck's and goes to pack it away in the fridge. When he returns he motions Huck to get up, "Give me a hug before I got to go? I have the late shift tonight."

"I mean... I could learn cards?" Huck says happily. "I always wanted to try Dungeons and Dragons but was too afraid I wouldn't be able to read the lips with all the weird monster names and stuff."

"I don't know? I mean, why couldn't I?" he says about hearing Jett's voice. "That's my hope, anyway!" He laughs when Jett is excited about the song. "I can't wait!"

"I'll be your Huckleberry, silly," Huck resigns himself to agree to Jett. He pushes up to his feet, walking over to get the door for Jett. Once it's open, he turns back to Jett. "Thank you. I um... I had a really nice time, J-Bird." He smirks, a coy, sheepish thing that's accompanied by his large bright eyes looking deviantly at Jett's. He lifts his claws up, hesitating for just a second with uncerainty, before laying one on each side of Jett's face. If he allows, Huck leans forward, and as he lays his lips on Jett's, he closes his eyes and initiates a kiss. It's a little more aggressive than earlier, a bit of tongue flicking across Jett's lips, testing... teasing...

"I could teach you some games," Jett nods at the mention of cards. Then there's Dungeons and Dragons and Jett laughs, "Well I'm supposed to get with a group who will play that..." he draws it out, "but I haven't heard back from the guy who invited me. I should probably get in touch with him about it." He shrugs, "I'll invite you to it if Ari still has room for another player? I don't know how to play it, though he said it was up to the GM, who could only accommodate so many people."

Jett shakes his head, "Anything is possible. I was kind of ... jealous that you heard someone else's voice..." He admits with a sheepish look, "I'm over it. I think." He grins and notes, "I hope it works out."

Jett shakes his head at the resignation to say it, looking back, "What would you call yourself if you could choose?" He wonders with a soft, "Huckleberry is cute." And once he's put away all the trash and cleaned up the forks and stored away the left overs he makes for the door. He slides his feet back into his shoes and rolls his skateboard out with a foot. "I did too," he says for the surprise drop in, "I'm glad to see you doing better, too." He speaks from former concern no longer present.

Huck's claws coming up stills him and not because of the claws but because of that look in Huck's expression. While Huck is leaning in, Jett's arms slide around Huck to pull him in tighter, to feel him in a slight embrace as he feels the aggression upon his lips, allowing it to flow between them, a taste, a tease, the sharpness of those fangs curiously felt with tentative tongue and managing not to slice it open. His hands initiate the push first to break them and his own face is a little warm, with a follow up finger boop to Huck's nose, "Have a good night Huck."

"I'd like that," Huck agrees about being taught some games. "It might be a disaster. Lip reading is hard with strange words."

What would Huck call himself? "I don't know. Something awesome and cool." He laughs, knowing this is a silly answer, "Trapper. Or Hawk." He wags his brows, "No idea, honestly."

The boop makes him laugh, and he shakes his head, tail wagging behind him. "Night, J-Bird."